Kentmere, Lake District, Summer
We seem to be going through a session of revisiting hikes we’ve not been on in years.
We seem to be going through a session of revisiting hikes we’ve not been on in years.
Straight after work one afternoon Lisabet and I had planned on a hike perhaps up to Hayeswater from Hartsop, or into Deepdale to gawp at Greenhow End. But not long after setting off we consulted SaferLakes.co.uk and found that most of the parking around Glenridding and Patterdale was labelled as Busy. We quickly changed plans. Why not jump off the A591 now, head through Staveley and arrive at Kentmere for a walk around this gorgeous and quiet valley?
The last time we hike up the Kentmere valley towards the reservoir and its famous ring of fells was back in June 2013. Back then, we chose a later time of day to do the hike in order to catch the light as the sun set. That’s also when all the midges come out and we certainly got eaten alive that evening.
It was a glorious day for a hike and Kentmere was looking particularly resplendent in its summer garb. I do forget though just how big the valley is. The hike took a lot longer than expected, even with our increased fitness.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
The scenes already look gorgeous straight out of the car park, with beautiful little cottages dotted about the valley.
The views begin to open up once we round Rook Howe; the slopes of Shipman Knotts (587 m/1,926 ft) looms in the distance.
Rook Howe and Greenhead are home to quite a few glacial erratics with a large example featured here. In the background is the craggy eastern face of an area known as Crag Quarter, with minor peaks having such wonderful names as Cowsty Knotts, Raven Crag, and Calfhowe Crag. This area was almost certainly extensively mined.
We crossed the juvenile River Kent to make our way towards the eastern side of the valley, trying to catch a glimpse of the Kentmere Horseshoe fells.
Crag Quarter and some lovely light.
Admiring the wonderful barns and cottages dotted around Hallow Bank, looking up towards Shipman Knotts and Wray Crag.
Our first glimpse at the Kentmere Horseshoe fells and their striking profile.
A Kendal Rough Fell ewe and her lamb pay little attention to us as we hone in on the Kentmere Horseshoe fells.
The fells in question, from left to right: Yoke (706 m/2,316 ft), Ill Bell (757 m/2,484 ft), and Froswick (720 m/2,360 ft).
Through the fields heading towards Tongue House and Tongue Scar. This particular path towards the Kentmere Reservoir was a rather wet and boggy one, which we didn’t expect.
We start to enter the horseshoe of fells that surround Kentmere Reservoir. This is Rainsborrow Crag, with evidence aplenty of historical mining.
A wet and undulating path at Whether Fold to navigate now as we near the reservoir. The peak on the left is Froswick, the “wall” in the middle is Gavel Crag (the southern face, ultimately, of High Street), and the rightmost peak is Lingmell End.
The falls pouring from the outlet at Kentmere Reservoir, and looking up at Rainsborrow Cove.
The wall at the head of Kentmere Reservoir known as Gavel Crag, the source of the River Kent. It is the Kent that gives its name to the reservoir and the valley (“Kent Mere”), as well as my hometown Kendal (“Kent Dale”). It is said that the River Kent is one of the fastest flowing rivers in England.
Soft light catches Lingmell End.
A simple composition straight along the dam towards Yoke and its subsidiary crags.
No crystal perfect reflections unfortunately, but still beautiful nevertheless.
Previously unable to find a footbridge to cross the reservoir, we decide to just walk across the reservoir’s outflow. I nabbed this composition on my way across.
The outflow we crossed, with Lingmell End catching some more golden light.
Catrigg Force, Yorkshire Dales, Summer
With all the rain falling in the North of England at the moment, it seems a good opportunity to revisit some of our favourite waterfalls.
With all the rain falling in the North of England at the moment, it seems a good opportunity to revisit some of our favourite waterfalls.
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, you’re spoilt for choice when it comes to waterfalls in the Yorkshire Dales. In fact, the Yorkshire Dales is home to the highest unbroken-drop waterfall in England, Gaping Gill (if you count the fact that it drops 322 ft into an underground cavern). If you want above-ground only, then the claim is held by Hardraw Force also in the Yorkshire Dales, a single drop of 100 ft.
But there’s plenty of other waterfalls to check out in the Yorkshire Dales. One of our favourites is Catrigg Force, found via a short but steep hike up the Pennine Bridleway east from Stainforth, just north of Settle. Here, Catrigg Beck meanders gently southwest from the slopes of Knowe Fell (593 m/1,945 ft) before plunging 20 ft into a wooded ravine. It’s a magical place.
All photos shot with my Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4 lens using a customised Provia film emulation.
Stainforth is a ridiculously pretty village, in true Yorkshire Dales fashion.
The pull up the Pennine Bridleway from Stainforth begins, where the views quickly open up.
We weren’t the only ones on this hike, and there were plenty of groups—families and friends—hiking up the Pennine Bridleway to see the falls.
Can never resist a shot of the drystone walls of the Yorkshire Dales.
The “nose” in the distance is Smearsett Scar (363 m/1,191 ft).
The copse that hides the ravine where Catrigg Force resides. In the distance the clouds start to lift off one of the Yorkshire Dales Three Peaks: Pen-y-ghent (694 m/2,277 ft).
You can actually get right near the top of Catrigg Force, just before it plunges 20 ft into the ravine below.
Catrigg Force, set in its own beautiful little ravine.
Plenty of people were trying to get closer to the falls, which is tricky because the limestone rocks around here were wet and covered in mud, making them super slippy.
Doesn’t stop people trying.
Back out of the ravine, we rejoined the Pennine Bridleway through Upper and Lower Winskill.
And then started to drop down towards Stainforth, pausing to drink in the views.
After navigating the rather steep and slippery descent down Stainforth Scar, we navigated through the fields back to the village.
A lovely Yorkshire Dales scene.
That’s one happy kitty.
Colwith Force, Lake District, Summer
There’s still so much of the Lake District I haven’t seen.
There’s still so much of the Lake District I haven’t seen.
And that’s part of the beauty of it; despite being in Cumbria for 7½ years, I’m still excited and delighted to explore and find little treasures in the Lake District.
Yesterday, Thursday 23rd, it rained for pretty much the whole of the day. Thankfully, by the time Lisabet and I finished work, the rain stopped and the cloud cover started to lift. Thinking about all the rain that fell, we decided to find a waterfall we’d never visited before: Colwith Force.
We’ve been to Colwith’s neighbour, Skelwith Force, many times before, and have always promised ourselves to check out Colwith Force “at some point”. Well, that “at some point” was yesterday evening.
The walk from Skelwith Bridge was straightforward and our excitement levels rose the closer we could hear the water. Then we reached the rocky outcrop above the falls and both gaped in awe.
Why haven’t we been here before?!
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a 18-55mm f/2.8-4 lens using a customised Velvia film simulation.
Setting off from Skelwith Bridge, and looking back at the River Brathay and Loughrigg Fell (335 m/1,099 ft) above.
The cloud cover was lifting slowly, here revealing the unmistakeable shape of the Langdale Pikes.
The light was weird on this hike. The setting sun, combined with the thick yet rising cloud cover, conspired to create neon blues and gentle pinks in the sky.
The woods around Colwith Force, known as High Park, is saturated with ferns, moss, and all kinds of lichen. It also became thick with humidity in here.
The roaring sound fills our bodies and then, up on a rocky ledge…
Colwith Force. Honestly, probably the most epic waterfall in the Lake District that I’ve been to. This split-drop is perhaps the most picturesque view of the falls, but there’s much to see once you scale around and above the falls.
Above the double spout, Colwith Force narrows from a fairly wide river, with various parts of it being split by the local geology. It puts me in mind of Swallow Falls (Rhaeadr Ewynnol) in Snowdonia, Wales. The sheer power of the water and the rushing sound filled the air. Definitely best to see this after heavy rain; just watch your footing.
Back at the entrance to High Park woods the light is receding for the day, leaving behind gentle pinks and oranges in the sky.
Not a bad view towards Loughrigg Fell, on our way back to Skelwith Bridge.
High Cup Nick, North Pennines, Summer
The last time we hiked up High Cup Nick (trying that saying three times fast) was back in August 2013.
The last time we hiked up High Cup Nick (trying that saying three times fast) was back in August 2013.
Back then I was recovering from a recent mental breakdown.
On today’s hike to this epic chasm, I was stronger and healthier than I’ve ever been.
High Cup Nick, or High Cup Gill, is a short but steep U-shaped glaciated valley that cuts deeply into the North Pennine escarpment. Not only is it a spectacular sight for its sheer drops to the valley floor but it also features these columns and pillars of rock near the head of the valley; in places, these cliffs are 70+ ft high.
These cliffs of columnar dolerite is known as the Whin Sill, and it is exposed at various places throughout the North Pennines and further towards the North East of England. Perhaps two of the most famous examples of the Whin Sill can be found at High Force in County Durham—one of England’s most powerful waterfalls where the water drops off 22 m high Whin Sill cliffs—and at Hadrian’s Wall near Housesteads, Northumberland.
Lisabet and I set off early in the morning to ensure we could park safely at Dufton village, the start of our walk. Nine miles and 20,000+ steps later we returned to the car thoroughly exercised, cameras and phones filled with photos, and our brains filled with wonderful memories and experiences.
All photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4 lens using a customised Velvia film simulation.
A single foxglove (digitalis purpurea) points towards Dufton Pike (481 m/1,578 ft)
That’s right, a drystone wall. You know what I’m when it comes to drystone walls, especially if they give pleasing compositions like this.
A small hut by the side of the old quarry road.
Looking back down the route we’ve taken give us a moment to pause and reflect on the sheer open expanse of the Eden valley.
We’re gaining height. A break in the clouds illuminates Dufton Pike and Knock Pike (398 m/1,305 ft) beyond.
As we round the shoulder of Peeping Hill (510 m/1,673 ft) a look southeast reveals the flat-topped Middletongue Crag (456 m/1,496 ft) being highlighted, with Murton Pike’s (594 m/1,949 ft) gentle slopes looming above.
The first sign of what’s to come. The path continues up to the left but our gaze is fixated towards the steep valley of High Cup Nick and its rim of cliffs.
A small cascade tumbles down from Narrowgate Beacon (656 m/2,152 ft), known as Hannah’s Well.
My eye catches a slither of light scanning along the valley floor of High Cup Nick, highlighting the beautiful curves of the valley and the beck snaking its way towards the Eden valley.
Looking down the sheer drop to the floor and back up the other side.
As we approach the head of High Cup Nick our shooting frequency increases as the views get more and more epic. Here’s some of the Whin Sill cliffs on High Cup Nick’s northwestern flank.
This particular column of Whin Sill is known as Nichol’s Chair, named supposedly after a local cobbler who was challenged to climb the pinnacle then sole and heel a pair of shoes on its top.
Zooming in on the details of these cliffs, whilst the other side of valley gets blasted with light.
We’re not the only ones here. Hikers wander and rest by the head of High Cup Nick, enjoying the sights and views.
8 vertical frames, shot left to right and stitched together into a single panorama, reveal the full striking extent of High Cup Nick. A truly epic view of the “Grand Canyon of North England”.
The Whin Sill cliffs by High Cupgill Head are some of the tallest, around 70+ ft high.
A young couple rest and enjoy the views near the head of High Cup Nick.
After a spot of lunch we had a bit of a scramble down the gill at High Cupgill Head to grab some more views and photos.
Views such as this.
More fellwalkers make their way towards the head of High Cup Nick.
I wanted to show the scale of the Whin Sill cliffs and the precipitous drop in comparison to the tiny figures of people on the Pennine Way.
Streams of lights pour through the various gills in between numerous breaks within the Whin Sill cliff.
Tiny people near the edge of the cliffs at High Cupgill Head.
It’s, unfortunately, time to head back.
I tip-toed near the edge of the valley where Hannah’s Well tumbles down towards the valley floor as Strands Beck. This image is made up of four landscape frames at 18mm, shot from bottom to top, and later stitched together.
My lovely Lisabet enjoys the view back towards the head of High Cup Nick.
One last look back at the epic High Cup Nick.
A pleasant composition involving, yes, a drystone wall, Murton Pike, and some lovely light.
A Swaledale ewe staring me down.
Swaledale, Yorkshire Dales, Summer
Swaledale is one the northernmost and remote dales of the Yorkshire Dales.
Swaledale is one the northernmost and remote dales of the Yorkshire Dales.
The last time we visited the valley was back in May 2016, and we only really drove through the valley. In terms of actual hiking you’d have to go back to April 2014, the last time we hiked around Swaledale. Even then, we only did a small walk from the village of Keld to Crackpot Hall and back, just under 2 miles all in all.
Nowadays Lisabet and I are a lot fitter and slimmer so we enjoyed a much longer summer hike around the valley: from Keld, up the Pennine Way on the fellside of Kisdon (499 m/1,637 ft), down into Muker, through the famous Swaledale meadows, and back up the other side of Swaledale passing Swinner Gill and Crackpot Hall to get back to Keld.
About 7 miles in all, or 18,000 steps.
The weather treated us kindly, walking conditions were great, the light was clear, and the scenes were glorious. Swaledale definitely ranks as one of my favourite Yorkshire Dales valleys.
I enjoyed using the gate as an “arrow” pointing to the distant barn.
We took a small diversion from the Pennine Way to check out Upper Kisdon Force, which was still roaring despite the River Swale being relatively dry. Can’t imagine what these falls would be like in full spate.
After visiting Upper Kisdon Force we headed up the steep path to rejoin the Pennine Way, but not before stopping to behold this magnificent limestone needle in the gorge.
The Pennine Way, my Lisabet ahead.
Looking at Swinner Gill from the fellside of Kidson. Soft light caresses the fells.
Zooming in on the deep gash in the land cut by Swinner Gill.
Pulling back shows the extent of Swinner Gill and where it sits in Swaledale, as seen from the fellside of Kidson.
The summer sun gets filtered through the clouds, with the resulting soft light gradually rolling over the fellside of Arn Gill Scar and down into the valley bottom.
A Badger-faced lamb peeping above the ferns.
Upper Swaledale gradually broadens out here towards the village of Muker.
Looking back at Swinner Gill and Rogan’s Seat (672 m/2,205 ft) above it.
A fell runner navigates the Pennine Way towards Keld.
The way to Muker.
One thing you’ll note about Swaledale: there are lots of barns dotted about the valley, far more than any other dale in the Yorkshire Dales.
The Village Store at Muker, an impossibly pretty village in Swaledale.
Amongst other things, Swaledale is known for its explosion of wildflowers in the valley bottom meadows near Muker.
I can’t tell if we were perhaps two weeks too early or too late to see the peak of wildflowers blooming in Swaledale. Still gorgeous regardless.
Lisabet’s hair mesmerizes me.
Families and hikers take a rest beside the mouth of Swinner Gill
A highly excitable child clambers across the beck of Swinner Gill.
A lot of industry occurred in Swaledale during the 19th century, particularly lead mining. The fells around the valley are dotted with scars attesting to the industrial heritage of this area. It’s also apparent here at Swinner Gill, where you can find the ruins of a mining hut right near this waterfall. I wonder if the water flowing down this ravine was once used to power industry.
The ruins in question.
From Swinner Gill we made our way back to Keld. But I had to stop here for a shot of this magnificent view back towards Black Hill (509 m/1,669 ft) on the left and Kisdon on the right..
To get back to Keld the path takes you steeply down the fellside towards the river. Along the way you pass Catrake Force, pictured.
It’s a gorgeous setting. A true Yorkshire summer paradise.
The bottom of Catrake Force where it joins the River Swale into a deep gorge.
To my mind this is the quintessential Swaledale scene. Swaledale sheep grazing, grey barns as far as the eye can see, the curves of the valley, the fields neatly segmented by drystone walls, this scene has it all. Shot from Cloggerby Rigg near Thwaite.
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.