Lakes, Central Fells

Derwentwater from Brown Knotts

Thursday, 2 July 2026

Ascent:      690 metres
Distance:   12 kilometres
Time:         3 hours 42 minutes

High Tove Summit

Armboth Fell, a bogtrotter's heaven

Heigh Seat Summit

Blencathra from High Seat

Looking South to Scafell from High Seat

Gatbells and Grizedale Pike from Bleaberry Fell

Derwentwater from above Ashness Bridge

Ashness Bridge

I had been contemplating a longer hill walk all week and took the plunge, nothing ventured...

It was 12:40pm when Gregor dropped me off at Watendlath. It would reduce the height to be climbed, and I optimistically said I would be back at Ashness Bridge in 4 hours, the time predicted for this walk. I could always (gladly) opt out of Armboth Fell if things were too hard. There was a stiff breeze from the north-west that helped during the steep ascent to High Tove from Watendlath. There is a good stone path to begin with, then a paddle across some boggy ground to reach the uninspiring summit. Wainwright was spot on: "It is hard to imagine that anybody feels any affection at all for High Tove...water cannot drain away from it...everywhere is shockingly wet". 

Well, not quite as wet as the route to Armboth Fell, I went south and then turned east to avoid the more direct route over boggy ground, but ended up tramping along sheep tracks that were essentially streams. There are two rocky tops, and I topped them both before stopping for a drink at the more impressive, but not necessarily the higher, of the two. Four walkers from Lincolnshire were far less kind about High Tove than Wainwright, but they had taken the direct, waterlogged route from High Tove to Armboth Fell. Nevertheless, I decided to return to High Tove by this route. They were not wrong. I was not going to stop at High Tove, a barren stack of stones on a hump of a hill, despite it being well past 2pm 

The initial path to High Seat had been improved by large blocks of stone, presumably dropped off by helicopter. Only the final 60 metres of climbing were on grass, and the ground was sufficiently steep to minimise the bogs that had been the recurring feature of the walk so far. A large trig point and excellent views made it a worthwhile summit. The Helvellyn range to the east, Skiddaw to the north, and the Scafell range to the south competed for attention. But best of all was the profile of Blencathra to the northeast.

It was decision time: did I make the direct descent to Ashness Bridge to collect my lift or visit Bleaberry Fell, a good mile away on a boggy twisting path, which would leave me with another 4 kilometres to get back to Ashness Bridge via Falcon Crag?  I was taught by my friend Keith Adams in 1990, when in doubt, always try to do what you planned, otherwise you will have to return to complete the missing hills. After reaching Bleaberry Fell and admiring the views of Skiddaw, I charged down the initial steep rocky path and then upped my pace to Falcon Crag, where I doubled back on the path to Ashness Bridge. A kilometre short of the bridge, Gregor arrived running at pace up the steepish path; he was loosening up for an evening run up the Langdale Pikes. 

He turned back whilst I lingered, mesmerised by the views over Derwentwater and pleased that I had managed the walk in 4 hours, including the two stops for drinks and food.  I took a photo of Ashness Bridge that I had first visited during a primary school holiday when a man called Vivian Fisher with a Jay sitting on his shoulder would open the gate for passing travellers. We used to visit with our young family to admire the views of Derwentwater. (see below). Today would replenish my memory bank and inspire future memories and perhaps convince me that there is still life in the legs and lungs.

View from Ashness Bridge 1986