Thirlmere to Hartsop – Bagging a Hatful!

I packed away my wet tent in the light rain after a difficult night. I drink from streams and mostly it’s ok but this time my stomach was so painful that I went to defecate in the night. More successfully than my previous experience with urination but said defecation was rather explosive. Weakened I set off late at 9.30am hundred hours.

The route would take me up from the campsite for three miles, non-stop climbing, to the summit of Hellvellyn. The third highest peak in England. It was so wet and cold I didn’t take a photo going up, although there wasn’t much to see but cloud. With the rucksack I struggled, particularly with my upset stomach. Upset? It was furious! Eventually, sometime after noon, the summit showed.

That is all five of the highest peaks in England that I’ve climbed this week. Feels great. Then to come down the other side. A walker had warned me not to take the two steepest routes as they could be deadly with a rucksack. Thankfully I found a safe, slightly longer one, as the clouds lightened slightly.

I soon dropped down a zigzag path and looked back at brooding and largely hidden Hellvellyn. I’d come along the ridge on the right of the photo before dropping down.

I was approaching Glenridding on Ullswater lake, nestling in the valley.

I was feeling warmer, it had stopped raining and I was happy. The waterfalls were not spectacular for this neck of the woods, but they were still a constant feature.

And just before reaching Glenridding there was a massive expanse of historical lead and copper mines and waste heaps.

Glenridding is nice.

I stopped at a tea room for a defrosting hot chocolate.

And a quick gander at St Patrick’s Well. Of course he is. He’s not daft enough to drink from streams.

A four mile march up the valley to my campsite and hopefully a good night’s sleep. A rainy week to come but I’ve got a roof over my head tomorrow and Tuesday. Joy of joys. Thirteen miles today, including 3,116 feet of Hellvellyn. Not bad old lad.

Night night.