Wet on Lingmell Lost on Great End 12^th June 2007

With having to work at the weekend I missed my walk so I sneaked off to the hills in mid-week, hoping to catch the good weather before it ended, but slightly concerned about the possibility of being caught in a thunderstorm whilst on a ridge; I needn't have worried because it was raining proper Lake District rain when I got to Wasdale Head. From the green I took the path across the base of Lingmell that takes you to the main Scafell Pike path coming up from Brackenclose to Brown Tongue. I turned left to follow the path until, just after going through a gate in a wall, I came across the familiar huge but apparently meaningless cairn. Cairns of this size don't usually get built for no reason and I have wondered on several occasions if might mark the start of an alternative route to Lingmell.

There are some signs of flattened grass at first as you turn left and start to walk up the steep, grassy slope; soon though, I came to a shallow gully and I was going to have to find my own way up. The gully is obviously the stream that is marked on the map but probably only carries water in the wet season; although it was a very wet day the rain hadn't topped up the water table enough to overflow into the gill. The stony bed of the gully was easy enough to walk up with not being any water flowing in it, and it was preferable to the steep green alternative on either side of it. There were a couple of rock steps that would have been easy to clamber over if they were dry but the moss that covered them was wet and slimy; I had to climb up the steep, wet grassy bank of the gully to detour around the rocks.

In some ways the lack of visibility can be disheartening, there is no view and you have no idea where you are; sometime it helps because you can't see the demoralising long slog uphill that still has to be done. I got to a point, after a while, where the rocky bed of the gully became filled with smaller stones that were much more difficult to climb without sliding back downwards and losing my balance. I decided that it couldn't be much further to the top of the gully so I took the steep green alternative route by the side of the gully; it did of course feel much further up the energy-sapping grassy slope. Eventually, the gradient began to ease and I came out onto a broad, grassy plateau; I walked across the grass on a diagonal course, in the general direction of Lingmell but also heading towards where I thought the crest of the ridge would be.

I found a small path and turned right to follow it up the easy gradient; after a while the ground became steeper and more rugged and after a short climb I came to a wall. The wall runs east to west across Lingmell close to a large cairn marking the top of the south-west summit, it could be mistaken for the real summit of Lingmell. On this occasion I didn't feel the need to visit the cairn by the side of the wall, although I saw it during a brief pause in the downpour; I also had a very atmospheric view of Scafell and the crags of Scafell Pike. The glimpse of the summit also gave me the navigational clue I needed to get across the rugged, pathless plateau to the impressive cairn at the equally impressive location of the summit of Lingmell.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see a thing from the summit in spite of its spectacular location; there are some signs of a path though that helped get me in the right direction for the descent towards Lingmell col. It's a surprisingly short walk downwards until you reach the wall again; rather than carry on and climb up to the start of the Corridor Route, I turned left to follow a faint path downwards, by the side of the wall. You don't want to follow the wall all the way down; at the grassy col you should be able to pick up a faint path heading towards the head of Piers Gill. There wasn't much water in the falls near the top of Piers Gill in spite of the amount of water falling from the sky.

Rather than cross the top of the gill, I turned right and climbed up the grassy slope and was fairly surprised that it opened out into a flat, green valley; there isn't an obvious path but there are enough clues as to where you are heading. The biggest clue is Broadcrag Col directly ahead, it looks easy enough to get to from this direction; as I got closer to the col it became apparent that there was no way of avoiding the steep, stony climb up to it. The flatness ended just as I joined the top of the reconstructed path coming up from Greta Gill; there is no gentle introduction, you are suddenly walking up steep, sliding stones that would be called scree if it wasn't a path.

To be honest, the path isn't that bad, it is steep and there are one or two places where you can slide on the stones but it is much better than a plain, grassy slope of equal steepness. I reached the col and turned left to clamber up the rugged, rocky ascent of Broad Crag; I didn't climb up to the final summit rocks but followed the line of cairns, bearing right across the bouldery shoulder of the hill. It is easy to wander off the path in that mass of stones but if you keep looking you can always pick up the line of cairns again. As you descend to the col between Broad Crag and Ill Crag you will find a much more obvious path that will take you across the shoulder of Ill Crag, missing another 3000-foot summit.

As I reach the plateau of Ill Crag it stopped raining; it would have been good news except that the mist that replaced it was very thick and the visibility was worse rather than better. After an easy, flat walk you pass some huge cairns before you have to hop across boulders; the path disappears and you need to keep your eyes open for the cairns in poor visibility. I got to Calf Cove without having to use map or compass but it was going to be a challenge to find the summit of Great End. There are occasional paths on Great End and several cairns on the various summits at the edges of a large, stony, featureless plateau; I had to trust the compass and my knowledge of the local geography.

The nature of Great End is that the big flat top is surrounded by steep crags, if you find the edge it should be possible to navigate around it to where you want to be. I reached a cairn after a while that seemed fairly familiar; it was only when I got past it and realised that the ground fell away dramatically that I was sure that I was at the top of Cust's Gully. Once I reached that point I knew how to reach the summit; sure enough after heading in the right direction, the stony summit crown emerged out of the gloom. Given the ruggedness and steepness around that part of Great End I thought it was safest to return back to the Cust's Gully cairn before trying to descend.

Finding your way off the summit of Great End is not that easy in good weather; it is the kind of challenge I like in dense mist but I wouldn't recommend anybody to try it without being familiar with the area. After getting back to Cust's Gully I turned left to follow the edge; there are two more gullies falling steeply away and then a cairn before you reach the obvious bouldery area below the summit. You have to make your way downwards, when the boulders are wet and slippery it all adds to the challenge; you will find yourself channelled towards the top of another gully; a small cairn on left hand side of the drop marks the top of Branch Gully. From there the small path is visible but eroded and vague in places; before you reach a crag as you start to descend another gully, bear left and walk through boulders to find a better but unexpected path.

There are big steps and wet rocks to get down, it is more difficult to descend than to climb this way; I eventually found my way down, without too many problems, to a small col. Turning left at that point would take you down into Skew Gill, turning right would take you to steep ground below the big gullies of Great End; it is important to make the short climb, straight ahead, up to the top of The Band. There are cairns on the ridge of The Band but no path; I decided I would try to follow the ridge down to Styhead. In the mist I had no view of the general direction that I should be heading; although there is no footpath I followed the ridge and passed several cairns so I must have been keeping the right line of descent.

It started getting very steep and I was virtually sliding down the grass on my backside in some places; I eventually decided it was too steep and craggy to carry on and reluctantly had to climb back up again, cursing myself for having descended such steep ground. I had to clamber up a 50-degree slope of wet grass and slippery rock; I was feeling very uncomfortable with the steepness and poor conditions but there was no alternative. I was encouraged by the fact that I recognised the places I had come down so I was climbing up the same way; I eventually found a small cairn and decided to try a different way down. I made an easy, sloping descent over grass until I had to make a more direct descent down stonier ground; suddenly I was on a big path, I hadn't seen it until I was standing on it. I was sure that it was the path coming down from Sprinkling Tarn but it was unfamiliar territory and I was still feeling slightly disoriented.

It was with some relief that I started to see familiar objects where I expected them to be; the cairn marking the start of the Corridor Route, the small tarn, the ruggedness of the path and the stepping stones across the mud to get to the stretcher box at Styhead Pass. From there it was a straightforward, if lengthy and occasionally rugged, walk back down the main path back to Wasdale Head. All of that area is very familiar to me usually, but in bad weather everything can be a challenge; in addition to your map and compass you need experience and a certain amount of courage, or maybe you could just be mad.

Andy Wallace 12^th June 2007

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