Stock Ghyll Force, Lake District, Summer
We’re doing lots of rain dodging at the moment.
We’re doing lots of rain dodging at the moment.
But that’s OK, because lots of rain means thunderous waterfalls.
Lisabet and I decided to head straight out after work for a hike around Stock Ghyll Force in Ambleside, before the rain arrived. We timed it well. Five minutes after getting back in the car to head home, the heavens opened and our car was washed.
Stocky Ghyll begins life where Kirkstone Pass meets The Struggle. It’s here that Snow Cove Gill and Grove Gill combine below Kirkstone Pass and head southwest towards Ambleside. Just outside the town Stock Ghyll splits into two (or three, if it’s been raining heavily), drops 70ft down Stock Ghyll Force and merges together again at the bottom of the falls before draining into Ambleside.
Photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a 16–50mm f/3.5–5.6 lens using a customised Velvia film simulation.
Stock Ghyll Lane, the road towards the falls, with some lovely soft light.
The day was wonderfully overcast, lending some beautiful pockets of highlighting at various points in the ravine of Stock Ghyll Force.
The upper part of Stock Ghyll Force. This composition was made from 5 shots at 16mm (24mm full-frame equivalent), stitched together from top to bottom.
Just above the falls Stock Ghyll cuts a deep groove before dropping 70ft as Stock Ghyll Force. My lovely Lisabet providing a sense of scale here.
One of the more popular and accessible views of Stock Ghyll Force. It’s classical profile is in view here, showing two falls becoming one, but after enough rain there’s usually a 3rd waterfall to the left. You can just make out its trickle here.
A less-visited view of Stock Ghyll Force, with some soft light breaking through the canopy.
Aira Force, Lake District, Summer
The weekend has been very wet.
The weekend has been very wet.
The Met Office have stated that, between 10:00am Sunday 28/6/20 and 10:00am Monday 29/6/20, Honister Pass recorded 212.8 mm of rain, “provisionally a new UK June daily rainfall record”.
Honister Pass is in the Lake District. It’s been very wet.
But after some investigations Lisabet and I did spot a gap in the rain towards the Eastern Lake District. So, after work, into the car we went and nipped up and over Kirkstone Pass for an energetic hike around Aira Force.
We were rewarded with a lush gorge and waterfalls absolutely roaring with water.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a 16–50mm f/3.5–5.6 lens using a customised Velvia film simulation.
Heading up Kirkstone Pass with the cloud shelf just starting to lift off the fells.
And heading down 't’other side of Kirkstone Pass, Place Fell (657 m/2,156 ft) in the distance with Brotherswater underneath it.
Ambitious young ‘uns hiking back up Kirkstone Pass.
The trunk of a Monkey Puzzle tree (Araucaria araucana), looking like wrinkly “skin” that’s sagging with age.
Looking down into the gorge from the bridge above Aira Force. The sheer wall of sounds and flying spray everywhere was immense.
Looking straight down the sheer drop of Aira Force.
Further upstream along Aira Beck you can find some more falls. This is High Force, more of a series of powerful cascades. Still gorgeous, especially in this soft light.
Zooming in on those details of High Force.
Aira Force, in full spate after a weekend of heavy rain. The waterfall is probably one of the Lake District’s most famous, dropping 70ft in two parts with a picturesque packhorse bridge arching above it.
As I’ve written on this blog many times before, the word “force” comes the Old Norse fors meaning “waterfall”. The word “Aira” comes from two Old Norse words: eyrr, which means a gravel bank, and á, which is a river, giving us “river at the gravel bank” and the full name meaning “the waterfall on gravel-bank river”.
We popped out of the Aira Force gorge a little early to go for a quick wander up Gowbarrow Fell. There were some views of Ullswater and its fells that I wanted to show Lisabet. And boy what a view we got.
Orrest Head, Lake District, Summer
Lisabet and I decided to revisit Orrest Head recently for our post-work exercise to get some steps in.
In 1930, at the age of 23, a young Alfred Wainwright from Blackburn, Lancashire arrived at Windermere Railway Station, Westmorland, and hiked up the nearby small fell known as Orrest Head (238m/783 feet).
And then, in his own words, “…quite suddenly, we emerged from the trees and were on a bare headland, and, as though a curtain had dramatically been torn aside, beheld a truly magnificent view…”
This experience changed Alfred Wainwright’s life forever. He moved to Kendal in 1941 and started working on his now-famous Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells in 1952, initially just for his own interest.
Lisabet and I decided to revisit Orrest Head recently for our post-work exercise to get some steps in. Of course, I took my camera with me. Orrest Head is such a small and unassuming hill but the views it commands across Windermere towards the Lakeland Fells is indeed spectacular.
All photos shot on my Fujifilm X-T2 with a 16–50mm f/3.5–56 lens using a custom Velvia film simulation.
Looking back along the wooded lane before hiking up the steps towards Orrest Head.
Loads of foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) on the way up to Orrest Head summit.
Not a bad spot for a sit down.
The view that began Alfred Wainwright’s “love affair” with the Lake District.
Coming down and around the shoulder of Orrest Head, this spring’s lambs peacefully grazing, and the gorgeous Langdale Pikes in the distance.
A quintessential Lake District scene.
Two dead trees pulled from the ground, then seemingly arranged root to root. I don’t know why, but I’m not complaining.
After returning from Orrest Head, we added a quick ramble down Millerground to the shore of Windermere.
Not a bad little cottage to have, right near the shore of Windermere.
Elterwater, Lake District, Summer
After a seriously dry and hot April/May—as noted by the MetOffice—June has proved to be more tropical and, well, wet.
After a seriously dry and hot April/May—as noted by the MetOffice—June has proved to be more tropical and, well, wet.
In the last week or so we’ve had mid-20°C heat combined with thunder and lightning (very very frightening), and heavy downpours of rain.
It seems to me, an enthusiastic amateur of meteorology, that the UK is increasingly experiencing more tropical summers: humid, hot, and wet. Climate change, yo.
After extensive, and perhaps obsessive, checks on various weather services, Lisabet and I decided to venture into the Lake District for a decent post-work summer hike. We chose a favourite of ours, and a generally popular trail: Skelwith Bridge to Elterwater village, via Elter Water the lake.
Thankfully our weather chimping paid off. There was no rain, barely any wind, puffy clouds everywhere and hardly anyone around. I’ve never seen Skelwith Bridge and Elterwater so bereft of people during the summer.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a 16–50mm f/3.5–5.6 lens, using a customised Classic Chrome film simulation.
This is Skelwith Force, one of my favourite Lake District waterfalls. It’s not very big at all, maybe a 15ft drop, but the force of water through it is powerful, especially after heavy rain.
This is an attempt at a 6-shot panorama, scanning right to left. I wanted to capture the whole span of Skelwith Force in one image. The individual photos were edited in Capture One, then manually blended together in Affinity Photo.
The astonishing view you get when exiting Force How Woods from Skelwith Bridge. The open fields of Birk Rigg Park and the magnificent peaks of the Langdale Pikes.
Not pictured: all the horseflies bumping into me.
It’s hard to stop shooting compositions involving the Langdale Pikes around here.
And then there’s “the view”… this is Elter Water, with the Langdale Pikes almost perfectly reflected in it. Elter Water’s one of the smaller lakes in the Lake District, but no less spectacular. Its name, like a lot of Northern England places, comes from Old Norse: elptr/alpt, which means “swan”, and vatn, meaning “lake”, giving us “lake of swans”.
Someone left a towel by the shore of Elter Water. And below it, the charred earth signifying a fire or BBQ. Clean up after yourselves.
The bridge over Great Langdale Beck at Elterwater Village.
I spotted this composition in the distance and though my main lens only zooms in to 50mm I had to try and shoot it anyway. A lone horse in between the woods with the crags of Loughrigg Fell above. I had to crop in quite a lot.
The way back to Skelwith Bridge, with the sun start to dip and giving us those deliciously long shadows and warm light.
Perfect reflections of Wetherlam (763 m/2502 ft) in the River Brathay.
Arnside, Cumbria, Summer
I’ve been guilty of overlooking Arnside in the past.
I’ve been guilty of overlooking Arnside in the past.
Lisabet and I have visited Arnside many times, largely for its chippy, but also because it’s the nearest place for us to access the coastline. It’s at Arnside where the River Kent becomes the Kent estuary and drains into Morecambe Bay. Much of the coast around the village of Arnside is therefore mostly comprised of mudflats and quicksand.
But there is so much more to Arnside, once a busy port. For a start there’s Arnside Knott (159 m/522 ft), which Lisabet and I decided to hike up recently. In comparison to the Lakeland fells it’s really not that big, but Arnside Knott makes up for it with incredible panoramic views. The knott is made from limestone, like a lot of rocky outcrops around Morecambe Bay, and features windswept trees bent into weird and fantastic shapes.
Arnside Knott is also surrounded by dense woodland, which we explored. After enjoying the views from Arnside Knott we descended the steep tracks down to Far Arnside, then followed the coastal path back to Arnside courtesy of a narrow, winding, and undulating track with incredible views and amazing coastal woodlands.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a 16–50mm f/3.5–5.6 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film simulation.
The way up to the summit of Arnside Knott.
Windswept trees looking like they’ve been blasted by a shockwave, shot from the near the summit of Arnside Knott and the views it enjoys.
Lisabet’s happy place: the sea. The shore at Far Arnside is made of smoothed limestone scree, which makes glittering and trickling sounds when the waves lap over it.
The start of the coastal path from Far Arnside back to Arnside. The views across Morecambe Bay get better and better.
Families enjoying the craggy shore near Far Arnside.
My lovely Lisabet, in her element.
A couple enjoy a swim in the sea of Morecambe Bay. In the distance, across the bay, you can make out Grange-over-Sands in Cumbria.
The woodland around the coastal path from Far Arnside to Arnside is largely made up of Ash (Fraxinus excelsior). However, these Ash trees are unusual in that they grow tall and skinny, rather than broad and spread out.
Gorgeous coastline that I never knew existed around Arnside.
Where we came from, looking back towards Lancaster and even making out the sloping hills of the Forest of Bowland.
Arnside Knott above the landscape.
High Sweden Bridge, Lake District, Summer
Lockdown restriction continue to relax in the UK.
Lockdown restriction continue to relax in the UK.
From Monday June 15th non-essential businesses can reopen to the public once again, as long as they follow social distancing guidelines. Some of the bigger companies have already started opening up again.
Until then a lot of the country is still in lockdown, although in some of the busier parts it might not seem like it.
Lisabet and I decided recently to venture into the Lake District proper for a solid hike. Typically, during the summer, we would avoid a lot of the Lake District honey pots as they tend to be far too busy. But thanks to the Lake District National Park’s Safer Lakes initiative we were able to see—within half an hour—which car parks in the Lake District were busy and which weren’t, then plan accordingly.
On this occasion we noted that all Ambleside car parks were rated as “Not very busy” with an encouraging green light. Once we arrived we couldn’t believe our eyes. We have never seen this popular Lake District town look so empty, especially in June.
We walked the High Sweden Bridge route from Ambleside, before clambering onto Low Brock Crags and taking the ridge back down the other side of Scandale into Ambleside. The weather treated us very well and the clarity of the light was sensational.
A very dry Stock Ghyll trickling under North Road Bridge. You’ll find a few old watermills along this beck; there were once 12 of them.
We soon started gaining height once we hiked up Kirkstone Road and then onto Sweden Bridge Lane. Ambleside enjoys being surrounded on most sides by fells; in this particular scene, the fell in question is Loughrigg Fell (335 m/1,099 ft).
Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) are out in full force now. Here they line the winding Sweden Bridge Lane up Scandale.
A gated field offers a view beyond to Nab Scar (455 m/1,493 ft), Heron Pike (612 m/2,008 ft), and Great Rigg (766 m/2,513 ft).
Zooming in from Sweden Bridge Lane to capture the unmissable shape of the Langdale Pikes, with Bowfell (902 m/2,959 ft) to the left. Below them, underneath Nab Scar, you can just make out Rydal Water.
A single foxglove growing out of the mossy boulders. A lovely composition that I’ve also sort of ruined by completely missing the focus on the flowers. Oh well.
High Sweden Bridge, a centuries old packhorse bridge that crosses Scandale Beck, before the beck drops down a series of falls. In the distance rises the flat-topped Dove Crag (792 m/2,598 ft). The bridge’s name might seem weird; it’s not named after the Scandinavian country. Rather, the word “Sweden” here comes from—that’s right—Old Norse once again: svi∂inn, meaning a burned clearing. Over time, svi∂inn became “swidden”, which in turn became “Sweden”.
Climbing back out of the valley from High Sweden Bridge gives you a better view of the rest of Scandale, and especially Scandale Head, catching the light here.
A wider and more expansive view of Scandale with the sun fully out, shot from underneath Low Brock Crags.
My lovely Lisabet leading the way back down Scandale’s western shoulder, with England’s largest lake Windermere in the distance. A glorious view.
Round here it’s basically impossible to take a “bad” photo.
Looking back up towards Scandale Head with some Highland cows grazing peacefully below.
Where we came from.
And where we were going to.
We gave way to some Highlands cows that were traipsing up the path we were heading down. Gotta give them plenty of room with those horns!
Look at those horns.
Gorgeous beasts.
The path back down to Ambleside, featuring the knuckly and knobbly profile of Loughrigg Fell and then rising even higher in the distance lies Wetherlam (763 m/2502 ft).
A lovely little scene from Low Sweden Bridge as Scandale Beck cascades down a variety of falls.