The Old Man of Coniston

Bright sunshine, clear sky and barely a breath of wind – yesterday. Today the storm broke over the fells. Scafell was out of the question (and I did drop in at Wasdale – the National Trust staff were insistent). So could a gentler peak be found? Gentler….? Not really.

I headed for Coniston, in the heart of the Furness Fells – where Lancashire takes its part of the Lake District. The village is small, close to the beautiful ribbon of Coniston Water, and climbing the slope behind.

The fell itself, the Old Man of Coniston, is the highest of the Furness Fells, and Lancashire’s county top. I set off with a Lancashire flag in my backpack to place at the summit (briefly, before packing it away – no littering from me).

A road climbs from the village, leading it its top to a clear path; as long as you do not turn off in the wrong place. I did, and I wandered over the slopes of The Bell, a prodigious knoll above the village, before climbing to a well-used track (which I should have been on all along) heading up the hill. Here I met three young friends heading uphill, led by a local man who knew the way up. I tagged along, and they did not mind, which was very good of them.

The path winds around the slope of the fell, until it comes to abandoned slate workings: this is an extensive, unexpected industrial landscape merging back into the landscape – just take care to step over or duck the broad pipes and massive cables, and what the man-wrought leats carrying water off the mountain.

The views down to Coniston Water are glorious – in the sunshine – and forbidding without it.

After the long climb, you come to Low Water (an odd name for one as high as it lies), a large tarn reminiscent of the secret places the children discover in the Swallows and Amazons books which the lake and the landscape inspired. Burn cascade down high cliffs to the water – cliffs whose high are yet to be climbed.

At Low Water, the path disappears; or seems to. it turns and blends into the hillside, and climbs hard. The path zigzags higher, up rocks and steps, steeper as it goes – until suddenly. the top appears, where a massive cairn-monument stands (and a trig point to one side rather overshadowed).

The wind was scouring the top; I ducked for relief behind the cairn. I did not feel sheltered enough to open my pack lunch. Neither did any of my sudden jolly companions.

The views from the top must be spectacular. As we descended, it opened up, with the lake ahead.

The geology is fascinating up here. The slate at the top, and lower the rocks change colour, with blue copper-bearing stones appearing in places – lower down are copper mines – also the inspiration for an episode in Pigeon Post, one of the S&A books. There’s quartz in some. That is the extent of my geological knowledge.

Back to the village, I said farewell to my erstwhile companions, and reflected on a county top bagged well despite the weather.

Maps

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