Doddick Gill to Gategill 7^th April 2007

I knew it was going to be a fine day but I was having trouble deciding what route would make the best of it. I was browsing through my Pictorial Guides and came across something that Wainwright described as “For tough guys only, not for solitary walkers and a route to commend heartily to one's worst enemy”. It sounded perfect.

I left the car in the parking area just off the Blease Road in Threlkeld and set off, in shorts and teeshirt, to follow Kilnhow Beck through a wooded glade to a gate in a wall. After going through the gate I turned right and followed the intake wall to Gate Gill, I crossed the gill and carried on to Doddick Gill. I have been there several times and it isn't that long ago since I was last there but it seemed very unfamiliar; it might be the first time I have approached in that direction. Anyway, after convincing myself that I was at Doddick Gill I started to walk upstream by the side of it.

I wasn't exactly walking by the side of the stream; I had to keep crossing from side to the other in order to avoid the rocks, swamp and trees that I came across. For a while it was a pleasant walk by the sides of the stream, rising gently up the unspoiled gill; things started to change as the grass and moss covering the steep slopes on either side was replaced by heather. Suddenly, there was nowhere to walk by the side of the gill as the steep slopes met at its narrow bed; there was too much water running over the wet, mossy rocks to consider walking along the stream bed.

As it happened, there was a faint path through the heather a few feet up on the right hand side of the stream; I use the word “path” it its loosest form. There was a narrow route through the heather that avoided having to step through the densest part of it but it was hard work traversing the forty degree slope. The steep, soft ground was awkward to walk across and I took advantage of the well-rooted heather to steady myself. The handholds were especially useful on the big steps up soggy ground that I had to make to get around the frequent rock outcrops.

As I got higher up the gill, the ground became rougher and steeper; the heather became taller and denser, my bare legs were being badly scratched. It was obvious that the going would not get easier and when I saw the crags either side of the gill ahead of me I knew I couldn't continue as I was. Wainwright suggests that you walk along the bed of the stream from that point but I suspect he didn't do so himself; there was too much flowing water and the rocks are covered in slippery green algae and moss. An alternative presented itself when I came to a small, green gully going straight uphill in the direction of the Doddick Fell ridge.

The gully contained a small stream of course making the climb uphill a bit less straightforward than dry grass; soft, muddy handholds are not nearly as reassuring as rock or heather. I thought I might be able to get above the crags before contouring around to the top of Doddick Gill, but I was beginning to think I might have to climb up to the ridge of Doddick Fell instead. I could see people walking along the ridge who had stopped, presumably wondering what the hell I was doing down there. I reached a point that I thought might be high enough and to my amazement I found a small path heading my way; presumably an infrequently used route from the ridge of Doddick Fell to an infrequently used ascent of Hall's Fell.

From there I could see the scree gully that I intended to use to climb up to Hall's Fell, it looked impossibly steep and rugged; my immediate reaction was that I should just climb up to Doddick Fell from there. On reflection, the fact that I found a definite path must mean it is viable, for some people at least, so I decided to go and have a look while I was so close. The path was easy enough to follow and took me to a much more youthful Doddick Gill than the one I had accompanied earlier. I was quite impressed with the place, just a pause in the steepness coming upwards before another thousand feet of steep and rugged ground.

I had to refer to Wainwright at that point and I was relieved that the upwards route was by the grass and bilberry slope by the side of the gully, and not straight up it. The bottom of the gully had steep, vertical walls and scree poured down out of it; every bit as impressive as Lord's Rake, it should have a name. I now had an audience on Hall's Fell Ridge and I'm sure I was still being watched from Doddick Fell. The climb up the lower, wider part of the gully was on loose stones; as soon as I could I clambered up the dry rocks to get onto the green slope by the side of it.

The slope was steep enough to use my hands to steady myself in front of me; there was no exposure but I did feel as though I was very high up. About half way up I sat down for a couple of minutes and a rescue helicopter flew up the valley, seemingly just to see what I was doing before turning round and flying off; an audience in the sky too? Looking down into the gully it seemed to be climbable, maybe next time I'll explore it. The people up on Hall's Fell Ridge didn't seem to be getting any closer and the slope became more rugged where I had to clamber over rocks; the rock was dry, fortunately.

I climbed down into the gully, thinking that it would be alright by then, but I soon came across a rock step that I wasn't prepared to risk scrambling up whilst by myself. I backtracked a little and clambered up the not much less-steep alternative, at least I had some handholds and didn't need to stretch my legs too far. Once I got above that obstacle I was able to drop into the gully; it was by then just a steep, stony uphill scramble that got steeper and more rugged the higher I got. Suddenly I was on the pinnacle of the Hall's Fell Ridge; I sat for a couple of minutes to ponder my lonely, steep struggle and to look just how far down it is to Doddick Gill.

From the pinnacle, the final climb up the rocky arete is the best part of Hall's Fell; not lonely any more, I was just one of many enjoying the warm, sunny weather and pleasant scramble up good, dry rock. There were dozens of people milling around when I arrived at the summit of Blencathra and people arriving from almost every direction. I walked down from the summit in the direction of the saddle and turned right, downhill, on what is now a good, reconstructed path towards Doddick Fell. I planned to walk down Doddick Fell and had to be careful not to miss my turn; I have ended up on Scales Fell before now having missed the small path going down on the right.

I walked along the rocky edge of Doddick Fell, above the good path, where I was admiring the steepness of my earlier route; I too would have stopped to watch somebody struggling up there. I was taking photographs and admiring the views when I suddenly realised that I was viewing the ridge of Doddick Fell; I had done it again and was on my way down Scales Fell towards Mousethwaite Comb. I wasn't too worried because I was still going in the right direction for my next objective; before reaching the combe I took a short-cut across the rough grass to join the good path towards Scales Tarn.

When I reached Scales Tarn there were lots of people sitting round, enjoying the warm sunshine; there were also lots of people on their way up to Sharp Edge. There is an obvious, eroded path going up towards Sharp Edge; it almost invites you to see how easy it is. At the top of the path is a rather unnecessary large cairn, there is no mistaking this route even though there a couple of misleading “paths” either side of the start of the ridge. There is a path on the right hand side of the ridge but it is very exposed, you have little to hang on to and you have to climb up to the ridge anyway just before the most awkward part; keeping to the ridge is by far the safest way of getting across.

The scramble upwards is along a narrow ridge rising to almost a knife-edge; it does mean of course that you have plenty to hang on to and when the rock is dry you only have to worry about the exhilaration of being there. Concentrate on your next step and hand-hold, don't look down while you are moving and you won't become over-exhilarated. Nevertheless, however many times I climb this ridge, it holds my interest and the adrenaline makes you forget that it is hard work too. At the highest point on the edge you reach a flat, almost slabby section of rock that you can simply walk across when the rock is dry; if you use the lower path, this is where it leads you to.

There are a couple more slabs that you step across to get to what can be the most awkward section; an L-shaped rock outcrop where you across a smooth, flat platform whilst hanging on to the upright for dear life! It really isn't that bad when the rock is dry but it frightens me to death when it gets wet. At the end of the platform, there is a raised slab that you can sit on for a quick breather before stepping down to the right hand side, and carefully walking across the rocky gap at the top of the Usual Gully. There is one more scramble up rock and you have done it; the sigh of relief is tempered by the sight of Foule Crag immediately ahead.

In good conditions you can climb straight up the rock; if you are of a nervous disposition or if the rock is slippery you can descend to the right to find a rocky gully. Whichever way you go, you have an interesting climb up the steep rock; there is no shortage of holds for hands and feet but it can feel just as exposed as Sharp Edge. How can it be that hard with so many people doing it?

Once you reach the top of the crag there is a path to take you all the way to the summit; discerning walkers will bear right to reach the summit of Atkinson Pike and walk across the saddle to Hall's Fell Top. My legs were beginning to feel the strain, so I ignored my discerning self, and got to the summit with as little effort as possible. I carried on past Hall's Fell Top and walked the broad ridge to Gategill Fell Top; just before the cairn there is a steep exit down to the left, through which you can see the ridge leading to Knott Halloo.

The descent via that exit is steep, rugged and eroded; you will arrive at a small grassy knoll with scree descents on either side. Having used both descents I can't really say that any one is better than the other, they are both steep scree with little to support you; the one on the left leads more directly to the ridge path you can see below. Having struggled down the scree onto the path and more level ground, you can look back to Gategill Fell and admire its ruggedness. I carried on walking along the crest of the ridge although there is a path a little lower down on the right hand side; the ridge ends at the rocky knob of Knott Halloo.

From Knott Halloo you can see the car park; a clear indication that there is a steep descent to get there. A broad path goes down through the heather and all seems well until the big path ends at a T-junction with a much smaller path. Having previously turned right (in mist) and getting onto steep ground near Blease Gill after losing the path, I decided to turn left, even though I seemed to be going in the wrong direction. As I hoped, after following the contours across steep ground through the heather I reached a larger but more eroded path that took a nose-dive down the hill.

Again, I was expecting this horrible path to get me down the hill but I reached another T-junction and after some hesitation, turned left. After a while I decided I was going too far out of my way and backtracked; shortly after passing the point where I joined it, the path started to veer downwards. At last, I thought, I was on the final leg; not yet, this path disappeared in a mix of steepness, grass and loose stones as it made its way steeply downhill. At least I could see the wall corner I was heading for, and made my way downwards as best I could.

At the wall corner you find a more polite path, it offers zigzags to tired legs on the final descent to where Blease Gill goes into the wooded glade, and comes out as Kilnhow Beck.

Andy Wallace 7^th April 2007

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