Summary
St Bees Head to Eskdale YHA.
| Route Distance: 60.2km | Estimated Time:6:04 |
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| Total Ascent: 1434 m | Total Descent: 1348 m |
Elevation Profile
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| From misc |
Route Map
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Route Description
St Bees
Team Rear plus Special Guests met up at the cafe at St Bees somewhere around 11:30am and after a coffee and handshakes we rode down to the beach for a quick photo shoot. The Wizard decided to get his first stack of the ride out of the way early as he cruised down the metal staircase which happened to terminate in a myriad of pebbles (even I was a bit suspicious of the landing). In the blink of an eye Chris' front wheel had disappeared and he was ejected at pace onto the beach, scuffing his knees up a bit in the process, after a round of applause from the crowd we lined up on the windswept beach in patchy sunshine as Alan (KT's dad) kindly grabbed a few team photographs.
Cleggy drove the van to the isolated car park at Bowness Knott, on the shores of Ennerdale Water where we would meet him a couple of hours later. The main group consisting of The Wizard, KT, Wiggo and myself began the country-lane climb up from the coast and inland towards Cleator Moor.
We somewhat fortuitously chanced upon the disused railway at Moor Row after crossing the busy A595 and headed North / North East as the track takes you peacefully over Cleator Moor, through Frizington, onto Rowrah before finally turning right at Kirkland and heading South to Ennerdale Bridge. This is our first departure from most coast-to-coast rides, which tend to head out towards Grassmere or further north. I deliberated ong and hard about doing the conventional route this time, but decided that the Grassmere crossing would be more like hard work than fun. I hadn't voiced this to the lads but instead insisted that the route we'd take would be emminantly more satisfying and give us a better understanding of Lakeland geography. Infact I didn't even mention that, it was bit 'my way or the highway'. As a unit we love riding in the Lakes and therefore we (I'm to blame) threw in a few extra bits so as to make the most of the bridleways in this spectacular corner of the world. The dismantled railway has plenty of viewing seats for weary walkers to sit and enjoy the panoramic views of the Western Fells. It winds towards Banna Fell which is a good landmark to head for on the horizon from St Bees. By now the shimmering waters of Ennerdale were coming into view, guarded on it's northern and southern flanks by Loweswater and Ennerdale Fells respectively. It was with a sense of anticipation that we freewheeled down the tiny country lane from Ennerdale Bridge, around Bowness Knott and to the quiet car park where Cleggy was just having a mid-afternoon siesta in the Mystery Machine.
Ennerdale and Black Sail Pass
The bridleway through Ennerdale Forest and along the feeder beck really is a joy on a good day, however today was rapidly turning out to be not such a good day. As Cleggy jumped on his bike and I jumped into the van (haha!) the weather began to take a turn for the worse, just as we were to start an assault on one of the bigger hills on our route. I dumped the van at Eskdale YHA after taking a few snaps of Wast Water (stunning). By now it was raining hard even for the Lake District. I could tell this because even the sheep were taking shelter! I felt a bit sorry for the rest of the team as they wouldn't get to enjoy the Ennerdale bridleway as it winds its way deeper into the mountains with seemingly no way out, and because they'd have to carry their bikes up Black Sail Pass and then take on a very slippery descent down into Wasdale at the otherside. Ouch.
Tongue Moor Bog Snorkelling
For some stupid reason I'd convinced myself it was a good idea to ride from Eskdale YHA, above Whillian Beck and down into the valley below in which nestles the welcoming Wasdale Head Inn. This didn't seem such a great idea at 17:05 and with the rain coming down in installments. However, I'd instructed the boys to wait at the Inn no matter what until I arrived so I had to get there for them. I wasted no time in jogging up the climb and for some unknown reason decided to crack on over Tongue Moor. I was getting a bit concerned at this point as the weather really was closing in bringing with it an early darkness and treacherous underfoot conditions, I asked a lone shepherd if he'd seen three lads on bikes, he said with a grimmace 'not seen no one up 'ere lad' before adding that he'd rather be 'in't pub', I ruefully concurred. Soon I dropped down to Burnmoor Tarn and skirted it's western flank which was a big mistake as there is no discernible path (at least not in those conditions). I traipsed through two kilometers of bog-land, with my legs sometimes disappearing up to my hips in peat bog. It was pretty miserable to be honest especially as I was conscious that the lads were relying on me to meet them at the Inn in good enough time to get them back over Eskdale Fell and home before dark. Finally I picked up a track and hooned it down past Maiden Castle/cairn. The track was fast and slippery at the top but the Yeti ate it all up. Towards the mid-section of the decent the track turned into a stream with rocky and rooty sections. Fortunately I nailed most of it but did have one off as the wheels completely lost grip on something sharp nasty and wet, no damage done.
Wasdale Head
At last I hit the bottom of the valley feeling like I'd just returned from a tour in Hellmand Province. After taking a couple of wrong turns up the river the Wasdale Head Inn came into view, result! I cranked my way to the Inn and wandered inside much to the bemusement of the staff, inn-mates and ramblers. The boys were enjoying a cheeky half in the bar area (Ritsons Bar). We shared tales of bedragglement and spending more time off the bike than on it (I think all of us had had at least one crash on the descent - Wiggo smashing his gear shifter in the process) before discussing our route options. I recommended that we should avoid going the short-way home via Eskdale fell simply because the weather and under-foot conditions were so miserable. To be sure of getting home we should take the longer road route. It irked both myself and the boys to not do the offroad option, it felt like cheating, Jon would not be happy, but I'm convinced we did the right thing. Team Rear pedalled the extra 10kms home around Wastwater and Miterdale and up Eskdale on the country lanes. It was absolutely chucking it down and with darkness rapidly descending we finally arrived at Eskdale YHA where were more than happy to lock up our bikes and get out of our wet clothes.
Eskdale YHA and Surrounds
We took turns to shower and then re-acquainted ourselves with the peculiarly YHA routine of having to make your own beds up using a protective sheet system that could confuse Harry Houdini on a good day.
Wiggo treated us to some of the finest Italian cooking to have ever graced the hostel, we wolfed it down and washed up by which time it had gone 11pm. It was high time for a well earned beverage which we quaffed at an unknown local pub (not the Woolpack, it was shut). It had a large collection of stuffed animals on the wall and a small collection of middle-aged Scandinavian ladies in the bar - all of whom had clearly imbibed too many mind altering substances in their youth. Radio. The pub served a lovely pint of Loweswater Gold quite apt given we'd just ridden past the fell bearing the same name.
I slept in a bunk just below Cleggy and took great delight in using his bunk as a weights machine. After bench pressing him to sleep I got bored and nodded off. Let's hope tomorrow brings us some better weather ...
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