North Lakes Trip May 2026

 Deep in the heart of exam season, another LUMC club trip is crying out for club leaders for a long weekend away to Cockermouth Scout Hut. With only one exam to go on the Thursday afterwards, I decide that it's acceptable to squeeze in a cheeky weekend of climbing - if you can't do it in May then when can you?

At the pre-trip meeting I soon learnt that the trip leads had grouped me into Sam's car on Friday, a plan that I was quite happy with until I learnt that they were leaving at midday (after Sam's exam) and also having to pick up Matt Fleming. The problem was that I'd got keen to enjoy a whole day's climbing during the excellent weather on Friday and a midday departure just wasn't going to cut it; plus the fact that I'd heard rumour of Matt's possessions being spread across various places in Kendal which would have added disruption to delay. Luckily, Kate and Maddie were leaving nice and early at 8am so I shoehorned myself into their car and engrossed myself with the comprehensive guide to Eagle Crag Grizedale, a venue that I'd still not visited. Poring over the great selection of starred single pitches in our grade range split by a accommodating half-height ledge, suffice to say that I was getting more and more psyched by the minute to escape the library.

Friday 22nd May

Friday morning was warm and sunny, still riding the high from the recent wave of incredibly good weather. Kate, Maddie, and I zoomed keenly northwards eager to touch some rocks, or rather that's what Kate and I did while Maddie had a snooze! Soon enough, I was snapping out of a daydream and found myself looking out the window at Ambleside flashing by. "Hmm that's strange, I thought we approached Eagle Crag from Patterdale" I thought to myself, and we soon established that the pin for the wrongfax parking was placed in Thirlmere at the bottom of rather a large hill, suggesting an approach via Grizedale Tarn. With Kate's knee still only barely being physio-sanctioned for outdoor use, we thought it best to divert up the struggle to make the most of the more amenable Patterdale approach. 

The steep and twisty driving was going smoothly until about a mile up when we encountered a very large United Utilities lorry coming the other way. Kate skillfully negotiated the baffled grockels in posh cars to find space in a side road to squeeze into, letting the lorry disappear off down the hill. While in the layby, a friendly fell runner approaches us to say that the road at the top has been blocked by a broken down car, and that it's best to turn around. Doing the maths in our heads, we quickly surmise that driving back to access the Kirkstone Pass another way would scupper our chances of doing the club shop at anything resembling a sociable time, especially considering the long approach to Eagle Crag. Oh well, plan B it is! We set course for Castle Rock, and I gingerly thumb to a different page in the Eastern Crags book, feeling a bit put out after my earlier psych for Eagle Crag.

Arriving at the paid parking (note to future self: park in the A road layby instead!), Kate forked out £8.50 while Maddie mindfully repacked her whole rucksack, making sure not to forget her excellent home made hummus. We plod rapidly up the almost non-existent approach and Kate racks up for a warm up on the classic severe, Via Media. She makes quick work of it, though I've forgotten to give her my guide plate so Maddie and I have to climb in turn. As I near the top, three typhoons tear past, trailing their heavy wall of thunderous noise along Thirlmere behind them. I notice that they're going more slowly than usual and I soon see why when the third jet gives us the closest pass that I've yet experienced in the Lakes, blasting our inner ears with it's unpleasantly loud wake. The echoing roar slowly fades across the valley and I scurry up the last few metres of the route, possibly gripping a little more tightly than usual.

Having waltzed up a HVS (Gazebo Direct) at Castle Rock just last weekend, Maddie sets her sights on the classic VS 4b, Direct Route. After establishing where the route goes, she methodically pokes up the steep starting moves, hoping for that first runner but coming away disappointed. Eventually realising that the jug for her left hand was the only gear opportunity, she nervously reshuffles while trying to avoid sending both her and Kate down the hill. A large proportion of the rack was tried in quick succession: blue cam, silver cam, blue wire, red wire, red offset, blue offset, red offset again - nothing was quite right. With the pump growing by the second, she settles for the blue offset and tactically retreats to the floor for a good rest before trying to climb through. The sequence goes smoothly with some juice back in the forearms, and the spooky start was soon ended by the arrival of better runners on the easy-angled slab. Maddie coolly finishes her long lead without any more faff, so Kate and I were soon seconding in the sunshine. We arrive to Maddie belayed around 5 metres below the top of the crag, so we tentatively top out while still on belay, then I deploy the 'steadily braced chap' method to body belay Maddie up to the top of the crag. Who says climate change makes winter skills pointless?

Just as we get back down from Direct Route, a team starts up the popular E1 that I fancied trying which forced me to get creative with my next route choice. Scouring the comprehensive guide, my eye falls on a one star E1 5b on the left called 'Howler'. I poke my head around the corner to have a look and the line looks very dry, albeit a little vegetated, with an irresistible bridging corner capped by an intimidating roof. On the lead, a few pokey mantles on the starting slab lead to bomber wires in the base of the corner - a chance to take a deep breath before entering the bridging groove that UKC had described as insecure. I wasn't exactly sure how bridging could be insecure, but soon found out as I palmed and udged my feet onto some small slopey holds, then tickled upwards towards the next good wires. With calf pump steadily building, I palm, bump feet, place wires and repeat until I'm about a metre below the roof and get a good cam in the groove. Looking up, the climbing to get under the overlap looks desperate and I get ready for a fall. Studiously ignoring my screaming calves, I cast around for more holds and spot a big flat foot hold improbably far behind me on the left arete of the groove. Channeling my inner kung fu fighter, I kick left and heave with relief up the arete and onto a ledge below the final grooved described as 'bold' by Eastern Crags. Little did the FRCC authors know that having a tricam to hand made the next moves a lot more palatable, even though they turned out to be on positive hidden jugs anyway. The vast, heathery ledge at the top felt rarely frequented, and the mossy cracks of the belay felt even less so. Neither Kate or Maddie fell off on second, and both join me at the belay with the consensus being that the route was really quite good actually. To escape the ledge, I led the scrambly ground up past the huge birch tree and we top out into a lush green meadow bathed in afternoon sun. Resisting the urge to snooze in the springy grass, we walk back down to do another route.

Confidence stoked by the fantastic E1, Kate is feeling keen to up her trad game, so racks up for Kleine Rinne (VS 4b). I had spotted the steep upper groove through the overlap while looking up at the crag earlier and guesstimated the grade at E2 before checking the guide and being shocked by the amenable grade. Kate leads steadily up the safe, steep start and then up the bold slab above. After some hesitation and gear fiddling below the overlap, she launches easily through the crux (surely not 4b?) and cruises smoothly to the top.

While belaying Kate, Maddie and I were weighing up whether there might be time to pop to the North crag and quickly squeeze in the classic HVS, Overhanging Bastion. Despite being on club shop duty, we decide that climbing should be the priority on a climbing trip and that the club shop can wait a couple of hours. We grab our bags and bash through the rainforest-esqe jungle to arrive hot and sweaty at the bottom of the route. 

Having agreed that Maddie could lead the first two pitches together, she now eyeballs the dirty mossy slab apprehensively, clearly having second thoughts about the long pitch. The moment of doubt doesn't last long and she soon musters the courage to rack up and go for it, making light work of the slab and hauling through the jamming crack onto the ledge above. A brief wander up and rightwards leads her to 'Pitch 2', and she enters the main diagonal weakness of the route - a massive slabby corner leaning away leftwards up the crag. With only some minor rope twistage, she's soon dicing with the groove which I later learn was surprisingly hard and technical - good effort! After a good while of hesitation (and presumably massive rope drag), she gains the sloping ledge with relief and brings me and Kate up to join her at the slightly premature semi-hanging stance.

It's now my turn to lead to the top, so we awkwardly change over and I'm soon padding up the delightful easy slab to start Pitch 3. The joyous romping is brought to a sudden stop, however, when I get established on the little pinnacle and face the crux moves that block access to the top of the slab. I manage to fiddle in some good high gear then go for it, finding the moves quite thin and insecure, but soon find myself on better holds enjoying the more sustained upper section that extends out into space. Some thoughtful rope management and delicate climbing on boomy blocks sees me gain the delightful belay niche - a plush grassy ledge handily shaded by a lovely tree. Kate and Maddie second the pitch rapidly, except for Maddie spending a while on my little blue offset which I'd welded in so she sadly had to leave behind. When they join me at the stance I ponder abseiling down to get it back, but decide that the looming deadline of doing the club shop was more important so I quest easily up the top scramble pitch and we walk back down the long way via the south crag.

A hilarious walk off ensued down the steep blocky ground below the north crag. I get thrown off by a particularly slick rock and my feet slip out from under me, depositing me straight onto my arse. Maddie was particularly amused by this and was chuckling contentedly to herself following me down until, shock horror, she does exactly the same as me and stacks it dramatically. Talk about instant karma.

Back at the car, we head over to Aldi Cockermouth for a quick and efficient club shop, made relatively easy by the small trip, then pop to the hut and discover Jonathan has had a little accident and an ambulance will be here shortly. An eventful night of faffing about in Whitehaven hospital leaves me quite tired for the next day, but Charlie and Nobby have arrived to help with leading and driving so go climbing we shall!

Saturday 23rd May

A very rainy night led to a plague of pessimism about Saturday's conditions, with some teams heading to Gillercombe and myself and others taking an optimistic punt at Kern Knotts. The sun is now out as we drive down Borrowdale, so we hope that the exposed south facing crag will dry quickly with some sun and breeze. Six of us set off on the long uphill walk in; my team being Nellie and Becca, and Sam's team being Ollie and Lucas. Despite starting off basking in sunshine, we now find ourselves entering much greyer territory as we gain elevation. Our optimism waning, we continue to plod upwards into the mist past Styhead Tarn and along the climbers traverse to arrive at Kern Knotts to discover it's just not just wrapped in cloud but also getting soaked by heavy and persistent clag coming off the sea. We share a moment of disappointment with another team who've done the same thing, then settle down to see if it clears up; the afternoon forecast is supposed to look much better. It probably took less than 10 minutes for us to tire of waiting and start looking for alternatives, setting our sights on the classic VD at the Napes, Needle Ridge. 

Perhaps too confident in our ability to locate and climb wet VD, we continue along the climbers traverse with me and Nellie trying to remember where to go from memory. Opting for a low road at a fork in the tracks we cross one scree-filled gully then another. "This must be the one, right?" I ask hopefully while peering up into the thick mist for any sign of a Needle. No objection from the squad and a vaguely correct looking blue dot on rockfax led to me leading the group up an increasingly steep scree filled gully. Just after a slightly steeper rock step, we encounter a woman in the mist looking as though she is almost cragfast on the wet scree to our left. "Is that the path?" she shouts across, and we explain that the way back to the climbers traverse isn't too bad and set her on the right track. Another 50 or so metres up and we've still not spotted the needle. Hmm. OS mapping wasn't much help in distinguishing the gullies but luckily the satellite view was more obvious and we soon realise that we've gone one gully too far. One cautious down-scramble later and we're back in the right gully questing upwards into the mist, with helmets on this time. Much to my relief, the silhouette of the Needle begins to loom out of the mist and the familiar rock steps are starting to appear in the gully.

Finally at the base of the correct route, and still engulfed in driving clagginess, we rack up and I go first up the extremely polished starting gully to the col behind the ridge. To pull onto the soaked slab from here is daunting to say the least, with low wires only really offering psychological protection from the ledge below. I poke upwards onto the wet smeary feet once, then scurry promptly back down. Gathering some courage I try to go again, but don't want to commit past this first section; perhaps being in hospital with Jono all night has affected my headgame slightly. Leaning into the "bail is never a fail" ethos I decide that today is not the day despite the large audience that has arrived at the base of the crag since I set off. Content with my life choice to prioritise my ankles over a wet Lakes VD, the squad and I plod dejectedly back to Kern Knotts, seriously considering going home empty handed. As Sam points out, the disappointment is slightly outweighed by the irony of me bailing off my third Lakes Classic Rock route - I really must break this habit.

Mercifully the sun burns through the mist as we descend back to Kern Knotts and we discover the team from earlier setting out on a route. It's in! Only the fastest drying lines are available though, so I go for the E1 on the prominent arete which is catching plenty of wind, The Buttonhook Route. The balancy starting slab threatens to wobble me off, but I manage to stand up into some very slimy wet crimps - great. Working across past a fingerlock up into the undercut, I build my feet high and launch through past the slippery holds and quickly plug in a black totem with a sigh of relief, having gained a fantastic jug. The rest of the groove was straightforward until an intimidating step left onto the arete. With Ollie and Lucas behind the camera snapping away, I venture out left into the buffeting wind on surprisingly good holds, placing plenty of gear for Nellie and Becca. Looking up the groove at the end of the traverse I promptly discover that the clean and positive holds had been replaced by a much slopier and lichenous style, just as the wind is getting up too. No bother, one wild country zero, and iffy RP, and a vigorous brushing later and I commit without issues and soon gain the top of the crag via a long rambly top out which inconveniently puts me nearly out of earshot of my seconds. Eventually, whoever is on red starts to climb, falls off and I just about make out shouts asking to be lowered. Red climbs again, falls off again, and is lowered to the floor again. Starting to thing that I've overcooked it with the difficulty, I take green tight for their go. Same story - start, fall, lower, start, fall again. Whoopsies, I've definitely overcooked it. Going for their second route, Sam's team gets a better angle and shouts at me to ab the route for gear. I've belayed off a big block so it's no worries to leave a sling and pop down, though the roofy and diagonal nature of the route led to some unpleasant and cruxy down-aiding near the bottom. Profusely apologising to both seconds, we agree that the striking VS slab, Innominate Crack, might be a better bet for the next route. 

Innominate Crack turned out to be one of those weirdly perfect trad routes where gear and holds appeared at just the right time in just the right place to make a delightful, if slightly characterless romp. The other team kindly returns my sling before we ab off, buzzing to have at least all got up one route today. Better still, I crag swag a delightful pink brush from the bottom of the abseil; no sign of the shoe that a previous team lost in the HVS crack earlier that day though, let's hope they enjoyed the barefoot walk off! Now starting to get cold from the growing wind and waning sun, we call the day a success and wander steadily back down the hill to the parking. Plenty of entertainment was provided by an increasing hangry Nellie ranting haplessly at nobody in particular.

On the walk down, we get a phone call from Rose to let us know that Nobby has waited to give us a lift, and might be about to somehow acquire a disposable barbecue. Bewildered by this hare-brained scheme, we race down to Seathwaite to find him fast asleep in his car, sadly with no sausage sizzle. Upon getting back to the hut, the Gillercombe squad had already started cooking, leaving everyone else to focus on pudding squad - a stunning success with a delightful creme brulee from Mr Waddy and a valiant attempt at tiramasu using white bread from Mr Fleming and Maddie. Some late night yoga helps the pudding go down and we go to sleep content with a partially successful day's climbing.

Sunday 24th May

A much better forecast leads most teams toward mountain cragging for the last day of the trip, with Buttermere being the venue of choice. Me, Charlie, and the Nellie/Kate indie pair set our sights on Grey Crag and manage a relatively early departure from the hut with Charlie driving the Jono-mobile in order to get it home. At the parking we wait for 10 minutes, baffled as to where Sam might be because we're pretty sure he set out before us. While everyone else had a relaxing snooze, Charlie has the initiative to check his phone and discovers that Sam has used a different parking and is waiting for us near the National Trust building. With this little hiccup cleared, we set off enthusiastically up the steep hillside, with the crag looking practically within touching distance from the car. My team was Rose and Ivor while Charlie's team was Oliver and Jamie. 

The walk in turned out to be far far longer than I'd braced myself for, and soon became a sweaty, sloggy sufferfest in the morning sun. At least we went the right way, though - something that can't be said of the two older guys who were doing the approach in their harness and helmets. One refreshing stream stop and a steep scree slope later, we arrive at the base of the crag to discover many of the popular routes on Harrow Buttress already have teams on. No worries though, Ivor and I pop over left to rack up for Mitre Buttress leaving Rose to toil in the scree below (sorry Rose!). We timed this well, just about beating the old, harnessed up guys to it. We blast up the easy pitches very speedily in alpine style, doing the whole route in around 40 minutes. The clean wall climbing of the main pitch was fantastic and very unlikely for Severe, giving us a taste for what this amazing rock had in store.

Scrambling back off the top of the buttress, we find ourselves perched in a grassy col overlooking Harrow Buttress where Charlie is busy cruxing out on a Hard Severe. Gripped by the spectacle, we settle in for a quick picnic lunch before continuing our journey up the crag. We weren't exactly willing Charlie to fall off, but witnessing his plight of trying desperately to eek out adequate protection using the meagre club rack made for pretty riveting lunchtime viewing.

Fed, watered, and entertained, we wander up further to rack up at the base of the famous VS 5a, Dexter Wall. I set off up the initial slab and make the surprisingly easy pull through the intimidating overlap. I methodically plug in lots of gear as I cruise up the juggy diagonal break on the wall above, eventually arriving at the thin vertical crack which guards the top out. Steaming up it maybe a little too confidently, I get drawn left by a good sidepull, then even further left by a crimpy rail to the point where I doubt I'm on the route any more. Oh well, nothing to be done now so I mantle up onto the top feeling much more pumped than I should have been. Some folk from Leeds Uni MC (wrong LUMC!) are at the top to chat as Rose and Ivor cruise up the route on second, with Ivor making the crux look much easier than me. We find a pleasant grassy chute to walk off to the left facing out.

At the bottom again, we discover Charlie mid-rescue of Kate and Nellie on the tricky HS from earlier. Taking pity on Oliver and Jamie, I invite them to do a route with us as a team of 5, settling for a VS on the right called Ted Dexter. Ollie puts away his impressive sketch of the crag and we all flake the ropes from the middle and tie in, somewhat resembling a giant octopus. I do the first short pitch up to a comfortable recessed ledge and belay all 4 up using the guide plate I've borrowed off Charlie. A team on the HS next door seems bemused to see us, but we just about manage to explain ourselves after a brief chat. The second pitch was fantastic albeit slightly dirty wall climbing with some creative gear thinking needed. Fortunately, the belay at the top was close to the edge so I didn't use all 25m of my available rope, and I get everyone on belay again. The man from the neighbouring team offers to get a photo of all four seconds climbing at once, which comes out brilliantly.

As the bottom climber, Ivor is lumped with extracting most of the gear and he struggles with a big wire that I've welded slightly at the start. Not to worry, I pop down on abseil and leave the others to complete the familiar walk off. At the bottom, I'm joined by Ivor, Oliver, and Jamie again, but not Rose. Assuming she's just a little behind, I hand the rack to Ivor, suggesting one of the V Diffs on Oxford and Cambridge buttress. By the time he's racked up and we've flaked the ropes, Rose still hasn't appeared and I'm starting to get worried. Just as I'm going to head up rightwards to find her, she appears from entirely the opposite direction, scrambling down the gully to the left. Surprised to see her coming this way, I ask what happened and she explains that she dropped behind for a wee then couldn't find the walk off from before. That sounded fair enough, but apparently she found another team at the top who also couldn't find the walk off - what are the chances?

Feeling like a slightly lesser club leader having almost lost a second, I belay Ivor on the VD which he cooly cruises up, building a solid belay and bringing us up in no time. Not all the gear was perfect, but that made great learning points as we coiled the ropes at the top, pondering whether to go home or squeeze in another route. Charlie, Kate, and Nellie were psyched, so we go for one more route. Not wanting to queue for a route described in Rockfax, I whip out the photos of the comprehensive guide and pick out an unloved looking VS up the left arete of the buttress, My Little Eye. Starting up the loose Diff, the scrambly start culminated in a mildly terrifying perched block before pulling through a bulge to gain much nicer rock. A sensational step right into space was only just adequately protected, then the airy right hand of the arete yielded a perfect trail of gear and holds all the way to the top of the crag. What a route! Rose and Ivor have no trouble avoiding the block on second and soon join me at the top, happy with a great day's climbing.

We collect the bags from below the buttress, then walk down into Buttermere from the top rather than the bottom of the crag in hope of avoiding the manky scree below the crag. This strategy was pretty successful and even Kate managed very well, despite the physio's orders to avoid uneven ground and downhills to protect her gammy knee. There was plenty of sunlight left as we dropped over a stile into the lower part of the valley, discovering a toothbrush (?) and many acres of beautiful bluebells. The other teams from High Crag are already back at the cars and we rush excitedly to join them and exchange stories of our days. A scenic drive back through Newlands valley (my first visit) rounded out another successful LUMC club trip - tune in for the next one!