Ain't no mountain high enough...

Catbells: Skiddaw in distance

by Tina Banerjee - 13/06/2008

Fear gripped me as I peered over my left foot at the scary 800 ft drop below. Hypnotised by the steep scree slope plummeting from the trail edge, I did what any terrified person would do – and flung my hands to the ground. Where had it gone all so horribly wrong?

I'd arrived in the Lake District town of Keswick only hours earlier on a beautiful June morning with my sister and a friend. Seasoned walkers, we were keen to warm up our legs on the first of our two day walking holiday with an easy trek.

I was no stranger to mountain hiking. I'd tackled Peru's lung-busting Inca Trail, scaled the mist-shrouded, bamboo-clad peaks of northern Vietnam and romped in India's glittering, snow-capped Eastern Himalayas. A couple of days traipsing around the fells of Keswick would be like a stroll in the park, or so I thought.

At 934 metres, we'd plumped for Skiddaw for our inaugural hike. Dominating the crescent of peaks circling Keswick's Derwentwater lake, it was the easiest of the area's mountain walks, according to a copy of the Rough Guide to the Lake District in our B&B. More poetically, the lakeland's most renowned fell walker, Wainwright, had gushed about Skiddaw's "graceful" curves, "smooth" lines and "supreme majesty".

As we set off, Skiddaw's distinctive triangular lump certainly looked formidable. But even when a wrong turning forced us to re-route our planned ascent onto a punishing uphill trail from Milbeck, the views proved to be invigorating. With a refreshing breeze to help keep us cool, we made steady progress until after almost two hours of climbing, we arrived at a flat saddle called Carl Side tarn that offered sweeping views along a razor-thin mountain ridge. Ahead, an ugly grey scar snaked up the unforgiving flanks of Skiddaw.

This was our final assault. As we ascended and the trail steepened, it became harder to get a reassuring foothold on the loose slate. Grimly determined, I inched upwards, focusing on the trail path just ahead of my feet.

I was making steady progress, until I decided to take a peek at the views. Big mistake. It looked like a chunk from the mountainside had been sheared off by a giant knife into a deep, desolate trench below. It completely unnerved me. Falling down that would hurt – a lot, I thought. Suddenly, I felt very vulnerable. This wasn't what I'd bargained for.

Deciding now to scramble on all fours up the ever- narrowing trail failed to quell my rising fear. No matter how hard I tried to avoid looking into the abyss, I couldn't stop – which of course didn't help. I tried a few deep yogic breaths to calm myself. That didn't help either. What had started out as a hike in the glorious lakes had – for me, at least - turned into a tightrope walk of terror.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the slope relented and with heaving lungs, I plodded onto a wide ridge. The relief was immense – as were the views. All around us, lonely, rugged peaks soared and tumbled into rich green valleys. On the distant, hazy horizon, we could even make out the Solway Firth.

Convinced that I'd survived staring into the jaws of death just moments earlier, this was indeed life-affirming stuff. But pestered by a cold, gusty wind, we didn't hang around for long. Skirting around the neighbouring summit of Little Man, we plunged down Jenkin Hill, encountering a party of panting foreign students on their way up to the summit. I couldn't help feeling a tiny bit smug. The hardest part for us was over.

Eventually, after six hours on our feet, we collapsed into our rooms at Ellergill Guest House, a modern, comfy B&B on Stanger Street run by a friendly couple called Robin and Clare. In search of a new lifestyle, the pair had decided to make a permanent home in Keswick after falling in love with the lakes on frequent walking holidays. Only their 10-year-old arthritic Labrador had failed to appreciate the move, smiled Robin.

In need of a well-earned drink and meal, he suggested we try the Dog & Gun pub later that evening. Mercifully for our aching legs, it was less than a five minute walk from our B&B. The stroll revealed that there was a pub every few feet in the compact town centre, which was bustling with hikers in fluffy fleeces and sturdy walking boots. The profusion of pubs was matched only by the number of outdoor clothing stores – everything a hiker could need.

The following morning, after a fantastic cooked breakfast, I gazed upon our next challenge from my hotel window – Catbells. Describing it as a popular family walk, Wainwright said it boasted a "bold, come hither look".

Indeed, it seemed half of the town was seduced by the recognisable zig-zag trail up Catbells's facing slope as we alighted from the motor launch at Howe's End. Kids barely beyond knee-height, silvery-haired pensioners and pet dogs with furiously wagging tails joined us on the ascent. I was pleased it wasn't the peak holiday season.

Even though my legs ached from the previous day's exertions, Catbells proved to be kinder than Skiddaw. It took only an hour to reach its craggy summit, where sun-dappled Derwentwater twinkled in all its glory as shadows slid over the surrounding valleys and forests beneath skittish white clouds. We sat for a while soaking up the views on our ring side rocky seats…it was quite a spectacle.

We then continued on to wind-buffeted Maiden Moor, weaving down between thigh-burning sheep pastures and sheer crags to the forested valley floor before returning via the lakeside to complete our circuitous hike at Howe's End.

So ended our two day visit to Keswick. It had turned into an unexpected adventure, but I'd seen first hand why Wainwright had become so enthralled. Like him, I also felt inspired. Now that I'd bagged England's fourth largest mountain by reaching lofty Skiddaw, one thing was certain - next time, I'd have to go higher.

* The trip was hosted by Cumbria Tourism (015398 22 222). The Lake District accommodation booking line is 0845 450 1199. For more info: see www.golakes.co.uk; www.lakedistrictoutdoors.co.uk; www.enjoyengland.com/ruralescapes

* Prices for one's night's B&B stay at the Ellergill Guest House start from £56 per room per night. Tel: 017687 73347 or see www.ellergill.co.uk/