Barf and Lord's Seat

Looking down the ascent route from Barf

Saturday,  27 June 2026

Ascent:          545 metres  

Distance:       6 kilometres

Time:            2  hours 35 minutes

Barf                468 m      1hr 15mins
Lord's Seat     552m       1hr  40mins

A couple of years ago, I thought I would be finishing another round of Wainwrights this year. I had been averaging about 25 a year. However, things changed, and I have managed only two Wainwrights since my hill-walking days were put on hold in March 2025. I decided to leave early for Langdale on Saturday morning and climb two small Wainwrights, Barf and Lord's Seat, overlooking Bassenthwaite Lake. I was parked just north of Thornthwaite by 11:15am after travelling through a heavy shower in the North Lakes. 

I found a parking spot behind the Swan House and wasted little time getting on the path. On previous visits to Barf, I have attacked it directly by climbing a steep scree path marked by a white painted rock outcrop. It took about 25 minutes. I had no intention of doing the same and took what I thought would be a more leisurely path alongside Beckstones Gill, and then, after leaving the forest and crossing a stile, cutting back to the cairn. The path was far steeper and rougher than I had anticipated, with tree roots, brambles and at times streams from the rain making progress slow. The top third of the path towards the stile was deep and dark, with two sections of scrambling up exposed rocks that had become water features. My nerve held, and I reached the stile after almost an hour of climbing the 2 kilometres from the car park. 

The final section from the stile and on the open hillside was a delight, with wonderful views to Skiddaw, Derwentwater and the Lakeland fells and decorated by foxgloves. A cool breeze moderated the now-emergent midday sun, a treat after the humid conditions, as I traipsed up the Beckstone Gill.  I was soon at the grassy summit with splendid views of Bassenthwaite to the east and the easy-looking path to Lord's Seat to the west. A mountain biker arrived from Lord's Seat shortly after me. We both hunkered down behind grassy banks to avoid the stiff breeze. 

The walk across the path to Lord's Seat was pleasant apart from the final ascent into a wind that stopped you in your tracks. The mountain biker had made the return trip, and he arrived a few minutes later after lugging his bike up the last 75 metres of ascent. A family arrived from Broom Fell, the smiling five-year-old boy leading the way, the father eked out a smile; he was carrying a baby and dragging a three-year-old, while the morose-looking mother brought up the rear, eyes focused on her feet. I recognised the feelings, having been there during our first visit to Langdale when Gregor was three months old, and the girls were two and four.  I had foolishly thought we could pop up the Langdale Pikes after breakfast. Aileen did not agree, and the girls had to be bribed to keep moving by bars of Twix.

The hillwalk had taken longer than I had anticipated, and there were no direct paths from Lord's Seat back to the stile, so I went off piste, through long grass, bogs and nettles to save time. The descent of the rock outcrops required some care. I reached the car park by 2:30pm and set off for Langdale, stopping at Grasmere for a coffee and cake with Gregor and Emily.  It had been my first real hill walk for a year and had drained me of energy with just 13,000 steps completed.

Barf white stone with Skiddaw behind

Final ascent to Barf

Bassenthwaite from Barf

Lord's Seat from Barf

Barf and Skiddaw from Lord's Seat

Borrowdale and Derwentwater

Derwentwater and Newlands from Dodd

Watendlath from Great Crag

Reenacting pushing John in during the descent of Scafell Pike in 1991

Borrowdale and Derwentwater from Seathwaite Fell

Keswick and Derwentwater from Latrigg

Last year, I wrote about my almost complete round of the Wainwright Hills, and this weekend I came a little closer to finishing. I drove Gregor down to the Lake District and then attended a moving remembrance celebration lunch for Robin in Bolton-le-Sands on Saturday. I drove back to the Lake District to meet Gregor at Grasmere. He had managed to climb the 10 hills in the Helvellyn Range from Clough Head to Dollywagon Pike after I dropped him at 11am at Penrith on the way down the M6.  I was keen to climb a hill when I picked him up at 5pm, but he surprisingly declined to join me, and I left him at a pub in Keswick where he could watch the FA Cup semi-final.

I climbed Dodd, not a hill I had been looking forward to, it is clothed in coniferous trees and looks like a runt of a hill sitting below the conical splendour of Skiddaw.  But like all hills, it has its virtues, good tracks most of the way to the summit and superb views from the summit towards Derwentwater and the Vale of Newlands in one direction, Skiddaw behind it and Bassenthwaite below it to the west. The summit had recently been shaved of trees, so it was a bright, sunny platform to enjoy a spring Lakeland evening.  On the descent, I passed the Osprey nest, but no birds were on show. I returned to Keswick to collect Gregor and then drove along Derwentwater to Borrowdale to the campsite in Stonethwaite that we had used last September.  It was getting cool, but the site was fairly full, and the smell of food drifted from the campfires. We elected to go to the nearby pub and enjoy the excellent fare on offer.

It was a coolish night, and by dawn, we were shivering in the tent, so we decided to make an early start just after 7am.  We walked back to Stonethwaite and ascended Great Crag via an excellent but steep man-made path up Lingy End and to Dock Tarn.  Great Crag was hardly worthy of its name, but it provided an excellent view of Watendlath.  We had spent many an afternoon here when the children were young. They would enjoy paddling in the beck, and then we would have rum butter scones and ice cream in the tea room before Aileen would drive the children back to Langdale whilst I dashed off over the fells to get some exercise.

We returned to the campsite, packed and then drove to Seathwaite, where hundreds of cars were parked below the starting point for Scafell Pike. Our objective, Seathwaite Fell,  was a lot nearer and involved a walk to Stockley Bridge and then taking the path to Styhead Tarn before climbing the steep slopes to the summit.  At Stockley Bridge, we passed the pool where the six cousins, then aged 7 to 12, had bathed after an ambitious and successful expedition up Scafell Pike in September 1991.  Gregor had pushed his Uncle John off the rock, and he recreated the act in the photo above. I recall that John was not well pleased at the time, but will probably enjoy this reminder. We were surprised at the volume of walkers on the route, not many of whom looked like they would get to Scafell Pike.

Summoning the energy for a third excursion of the day is never easy, so we decided to take in Latrigg, a minor hill that sits above Keswick and which I had surprisingly never climbed. Like Dodd, it was a saunter through coniferous plantations, but even in the heat of the day, it was pleasant, and the summit was a grassy meadow that would make a perfect golf course.  We sunbathed for ten minutes, admiring the beauty of Derwentwater, Newlands and Borrowdale. We took a direct descent through the densely forested slopes. We were suitably tired, and despite my intention to take in Beda Fell near Ullswater, it was getting too hot to make a fourth climb of the day, so we returned to Glasgow, arriving back before 5pm.

Wainwright Bashing: Day 2

Catbells, Skiddaw and Derwentwater

Friday, 17 September 2010

Total Ascent:    1980 metres
Total Distance   22 kilometres
Total Time:        8 hours 10 minutes

Walk 1

535metres,  6km, 2hrs 41mins
Bessyboot               551m       1hr 11mins,
Rossthwaite Fell    612m        1hr 27mins

Walk 2

610 metres, 5km, 2hrs 14mins
Maiden Moor         576m        1hr 12mins

Walk 3

835metres, 11km, 3hrs 15mins
Bakestall                 673m       55mins
Great Calva             690m    1hr 57mins



After a remarkably comfortable night at Langstrath in the tent, we had a cheese roll and water for breakfast before sauntering out of the campsite and immediately up a steep path through the oak woods by Stanger Gill leading up to the fells above. The Pope may have been in Glasgow today but we felt that we were the ones in heaven. The sharp light played on the bracken and the crags provided an intricate jigsaw puzzle as we kept climbing upwards through superb scenery with Herdwick sheep, as bred by Beatrix Potter, acting as extras in a film set that Gregor described as better than Lord of the Rings.

We did find Bessyboot, what a glorious name for a hill, where a Herdwick sheep was posing and bossing the summit. The view across to Rossthwaite Fell was beyond the Tarn at Leaves and we negotiated the numerous descents and ascents before the final scramble to the summit. There were wonderful views in all directions and we agreed that this was one of the very best of Lakeland fells, contrary to Wainwright's somewhat dismissive tone. We sensed our route back to the path leading down through the oak woods and arrived back at the campsite thoroughly pleased with our morning excursion.

We packed the tent and set off for Grange-in-Borrowdale and then to Manesty on the shores of Derwentwater from where we would climb Maiden Moor. Why I had not climbed Maiden Moor before, I am not sure. I had been up Catbells dozens of times often with a child on my back and others in tow. We parked at Manesty near the home of Hugh Walpole, who wrote two anthemic novels about this area - Rogue Herries and Judith Paris, and proceeded up a stone staircase to Hause Gate, the col between Catbells and Maiden Moor. Gregor asked whether had he climbed Catbells and I told him, yes, but I had probably carried him in the knowledge that it would send him on a detour and give me time to make Maiden Moor before him, but only just.  We admired the views from Maiden Moor including the Vale of Newlands, one of my favourite places from the school trip and it is the location of Mrs Tiggy-Winkle's laundry.

On the descent we were surrounded by hundreds, yes hundreds, of autumn walkers; the baby boomers complete with walking poles and making a noise like the world knitting championship as they clattered up and down the stone staircase.  If the coalition wanted a quick win for tax-raising they could do a lot worse than introduce a walking pole tax.  We were down before 2pm and decided to drive north to do some hills north of Keswick.

We were both a bit stiff from 4 walks in the last 25 hours but, notwithstanding, I decided that we would attempt Bakestall and Great Calva, my 2 remaining hills in what is known as Back o' Skiddaw.  They were a stiffer challenge than we had admitted to ourselves from looking at the map.  Bakestall, or Bakewell as I kept calling it required a sharp climb of 400 metres from the track to Skiddaw House and the top was merely an outlier of Skiddaw. We immediately rechristened it, Tart.

We made a muddy descent back down to the track and then after ascending the track for a kilometre struck up the slopes and suffered a horrendous 3km trek across a spongy heather moor that in Scotland would at least have had a soundtrack of whirring grouse. We reached the summit with great relief and descended via Little Calva and then back down to the track just above the Whitewater Dash, a quite amazing waterfall that would do well at Disneyworld, it merits a repeat visit sometime in the future.


We arrived back at the car knowing that this had been a punishing day, 2000 metres of climbing and 22 kilometres on 3 separate walks with no lunch.  We drove along to Caldbeck and had an early supper in the Oddfellows Arms before driving back to Glasgow.  It had been a highly productive two days and a great reunion with the lake district in autumn but I must buy some walking poles so I fit in with the baby boomers.

Herdwick posing on Bessyboot

In search of Bessyboot

Tarn at Leaves below Bessyboot

Derwentwater from Maiden Moor path

Vale of Newlands and Catbells from Maiden Moor

Bakestall

Great Calva and the heather from hell

From Great Calva

Whitewater Dash