THE WAY OF THE WATER
Trail takes a trip down memory lane with fell-running legend JOSS NAYLOR, who picks out the best bits from his epic 1983 route around the most spectacular lakes, meres and waters in the Lake District.
“It’s one of the most picturesque things anyone can do”
When Joss Naylor, someone with an intimate knowledge of the Lake District acquired over many decades, describes a single journey through the fells in that manner, you can’t help but sit up and listen. He is talking about the time, in 1983, when he ran the Lakes, Meres and Waters route. This 169km (105-mile) route takes in 27 major bodies of water from the wooded shores of Loweswater on the western fringes of the Lakes to Over Water at the foot of the Northern Fells. It passes some of the National Park’s most spectacular spots, including Ennerdale, Wasdale, Eskdale, the Coniston Fells, Kentmere, Nan Bield Pass, High Street, Ullswater and Sticks Pass.
It’s not a pure high-fells epic, but neither is it a valley saunter. This is a rhapsodic and often demanding tour of rock and water, probably one of the most visually appealing combinations in the natural world. It winds its way along valley bottoms, up and over rocky tops, across bleak, pathless moorland… repeating that pattern over and over again, clocking up roughly 7000m of ascent in the process.
Joss ran his version of the Lakes, Meres and Waters in 19 hours, 14 minutes and 25 seconds. Yes, you read that correctly; basically, he fitted it into one long June day. For lesser mortals though, there is an easier option. In the new book Joss Naylor’s Lakes, Meres and Waters of the Lake District, the challenge has been broken down into a more manageable 10 days of between 15km and 23km each, creating a permanent record of the route, and enabling others to follow in his footsteps.
STAGES 1-3 Loweswater to Dunnerdale
“This la’al valley has got summat very, very special when you catch it on the right day,” says Joss about Buttermere, while we rest on the tiny bridge spanning Buttermere Dubs, the beck connecting the National Park’s most photogenic lake with its neighbour, Crummock Water. He’s recalling a moment when, on Haystacks, the ‘looking-glass’ quality of the water below suddenly stopped him in his tracks. “It was so sharp; it was sharper in the water than it was out. I sat down for a couple of minutes, just took it in.”
We’d set off on our slower version of the Lakes, Meres and Waters that morning, walking in from Loweswater, and intending to complete it over several days spread throughout the summer. Whiteside’s scree slopes and the forbidding, gully-ridden western face of Grasmoor dominated the scene ahead while dark Mellbreak stood aloof to the south. As we gained the western shore of Crummock Water, it seemed impossible that the already dramatic scenery could get any better and yet it did, growing in grandeur with every step taken.
From Buttermere, the route performs its first ‘up-and-over’. There’s a punishingly steep climb from the water’s edge into the crag-bound corrie occupied by Bleaberry Tarn and then on to Red Pike. Boots struggle to gain a hold on the final few metres of loose, haematitestained stone; scrabbling for handholds, fingernails inevitably gather red dust firmly lodged beneath them. From the 755m summit, the lure of the tapering, boulder-ridden ridge to the south-east must be resisted because the way ahead is down into the lonely wilds of Ennerdale. Once there, there’s barely a moment to change gear, and dip fingers in Ennerdale Water, before the route climbs again.
Up and over the shoulder of Haycock, over pathless terrain along the flanks of Seatallan and down into Joss’s home valley, Wasdale, where England’s deepest lake, Wast Water, awaits. Up and over Irton Fell and down into Eskdale. Joss admits to having briefly got lost in the mist on Haycock in 1983, but one of the most navigationally challenging sections is upon us now.
An old peat road leads up from the valley bottom and then stops… on the edge of the bog. The peat-cutters of yesteryear had no reason to go further, but we want to get to Devoke Water, on the far side of this boot-sucking morass. A way is found. Joss found a way too, in 1983, to negotiate the forlorn landscape from Devoke Water down into Dunnerdale. A friend had warned him of the bogs on that section. “Those old peat holes that are grassed over can be dangerous,” he explains. “Once you’re in the peat, it sucks you in. There’s nowt worse...”
STAGES 4-6 Dunnerdale to Kentmere
“I dropped in just below Blind Tarn and then I had a real good line right through until Goat’s Water,” says Joss, recalling the moment when, having battled the bogs between Eskdale and Dunnerdale, his run made for the high fells again. He followed a direct line from the Walna Scar Road, one that saw him traversing rough ground, clambering over or
running around a series of rock outcrops.
There’s a sense now of leaving the damp moorland behind and re-entering serious fell country. To the west, aprons of grey scree and imposing buttresses lead up to the summit of Dow Crag while, to the east, the rugged slopes of the Old Man are punctured by disused quarry workings. Between them, comfortable in its glacial bowl, sits Goat’s Water, the seventh body of water into which Joss dipped his fingers.
Number eight is Low Water, followed by Levers Water, reached via a hidden rake that cuts across Brim Fell’s eastern crags. Once well grazed, the line was obvious 39 years ago, but it’s less so now. There’s not much here to confirm you’re on the right line and not heading for a cliff edge. The excitement over, we follow old tracks through the scarred landscape of the Coppermines Valley and out to Coniston Water.
I initially expect the next long section of valley walking to be an exercise in listticking – Esthwaite Water, Elter Water, Grasmere, Rydal Water and Windermere – but the gently rolling landscape provides a relaxing counterpoint to the tough miles previously covered. Delightful walled tracks then lead up into Troutbeck and, beyond that, Kentmere where the littleknown Skeggles Water awaits. On the way up to the tarn, Joss and I inadvertently flush out a buzzard and then a hare.
As I wade through the heather near the water’s edge, trying to keep up with my 84-year-old companion, the purple flowers release pollen dust that seems to hover just above the ground, filling the air with a sweet, cloying smell. There’s charm and serenity here, there’s no doubt, but the high fells are calling again…
STAGES 7-10 Kentmere to Over Water
“There aren’t many valleys like this, unspoilt and with the old packhorse route still going straight up it,” remarks Joss as we make our way towards Kentmere Reservoir. Nearing the dale head, the fells begin crowding in around us again. For almost 50km, since leaving Coniston, the route has passed through benign countryside, but the slopes here look fierce, the terrain unforgiving. Yoke, a nondescript fell when you pass over the top of it, looks dark and ominous from the valley floor, the rocks of Rainsborrow Crag almost black. An apron of boulders spills from a yawning quarry mouth.
The route performs the first of several more up-and-overs. Nan Bield Pass is crossed before the route calls in at Small Water, Haweswater and Blea Water, exquisitely poised on the lip of a corrie biting into the eastern face of High Street. Standing at the water’s edge, we’re treated to one of those magical fell moments that linger long, if not forever, in the memories of hill-goers. While the crest of the high ground to our north is in brilliant sunshine, cloud pours over the crags to the south, filling the bowl below – a seething mass of moist air, rushing full pelt in the strong wind, creating a cauldron of swirling vapour. The far side of the tarn is invisible at first, but then the mist breaks up and the sun illuminates much of the back wall. Within seconds though, the cliff is obscured again. The constant state of flux is entrancing, but we push on…
Up and over High Street. Down past Haweswater, Brothers Water and Ullswater. Up and over Sticks Pass, here crossing a col on the long, undulating ridge that Helvellyn throws out to the
north. It’s our final taste of the high ground before the route descends to Thirlmere, Derwent Water and the penultimate body of water, Bassenthwaite Lake. You’d think it would be all downhill from here, but the final 8km involves a steady ascent of 240m to reach Over Water. This unassuming tarn, sitting in a verdant bowl just a boulder’s lob from Skiddaw, might feel far removed from rugged Nan Bield Pass or even Buttermere’s crag-bound glories, but in many ways it’s a fitting end to a diverse journey through all that the Lakes has to offer.
“Looking back afterwards,” says Joss, “I thought how privileged I was to have done it. It gave us a chance to go to places where you don’t usually go.”