Bowfell, Esk Pike, Scafell Pike and Scafell

(Guest contribution by John Deasey, in his own words)

My friend Neal Lever and I had been building up to a long, full-day walk and decided to tackle the Scafells from the Langdale valley. We knew this starting point well, having already done Crinkle Crags, Bowfell, Pavey Ark, etc., so we felt comfortable with it. The only nagging issue was trying to find a route that wasn't just an out-and-back, so we added a return via Cam Spout and across Great Moss—little did we know how knackered we would be at that point!

We left the car park near the New Dungeon Ghyll at 7:15 AM, and it was hot, windless, and stuffy—not a great sign as we had a long day ahead. As we climbed the first section of The Band, we seriously wondered whether we had enough water. We aimed for the single rock near the top of The Band, which leads to a fairly indistinct path to the Climbers Traverse. This was the first highlight of a memorable day.

The Climbers Traverse is a stunning path, quite narrow and perhaps a bit dodgy in poor weather. By then, we were enjoying the cooler air as the edge was taken off the heat. The sense of isolation and being dwarfed by the huge cliffs was wonderful, and we could have happily stayed there all day.

At the end of the Climbers Traverse, we scrambled up the Great Slab, which was a much longer climb than we thought. It was bone dry and presented no problem walking up the 30-degree slope (though I wouldn't fancy it in damp weather, as it would make a damn fine ski slope!). After a quick final ascent to the summit of Bowfell, we checked our watches at 9:00 AM—all was well with the world. Bowfell is my favourite mountain of all: majestic, a proper peak, tucked away yet in the middle of an amazing vista. Today, however, the views were muted by persistent wispy cloud cover, though it would soon burn off.

Descending from Bowfell is always a rock fest, but we picked our way down to Ore Gap and flew up Esk Pike. A quick map check confirmed we were bang on track, with Bowfell looking even more majestic from behind.

From Esk Pike, we could see the junction of Esk Hause and the path leading up to the Scafells. So far, we hadn't seen a soul. The descent from Esk Pike was a delight with sharp escarpments, narrow slabs, and thinning clouds revealing the Scafells.

The path from Esk Hause is wide and clear, but that soon changes near Great End. Now the route is full of boulders, requiring careful navigation across boulder fields by spotting cairns. In warm, clear conditions it was no problem, but it must be a brutal place in foul weather.

After a few false summits and a gruelling descent and re-ascent, we hit the final climb to Scafell Pike—the highest point in England. We found a quieter spot to rest and have lunch. There were many people at the summit arriving from Wasdale, making it a bit too busy for quiet reflection, but the rugged grandeur is undeniable.

As we rested, our eyes were drawn to our next challenge: Lord's Rake and Scafell. Neal had been talking about Lord's Rake for a while, and we decided to go down and inspect it. The view across to Scafell is one of the most stunning vistas I have seen—a massive wall of crags dwarfing climbers. Mickledore is a place of legends, providing a narrow link between England's two highest points.

Reaching the end of Mickledore, we found a very steep, scree-filled path down beneath the huge crags—a proper scramble where we had to run and jump across gullies! Lord's Rake looked far worse than it actually was, and we found ascending it great fun. Following Wainwright's notes on its three ups and two downs, this roller-coaster route offered amazing views across to Lingmell and Yewbarrow, rewarding us with an awesome view of Wast Water as we emerged.

A steep pull took us to the summit of Scafell, which was much quieter. Looking back across to Scafell Pike, the crowds looked like penguins on a rock!

Now came the return journey without retracing our steps. Looking across toward Bowfell, we realized we had to get over another ridge in between—it looked like a trek to another country! Tired from the arduous ascent in hot weather, we weren't looking forward to the return.

Our descent down Fox's Tarn Gully was tricky, and feeling tired, we had a couple of stumbles (quickly fixed with ibuprofen). Lower down, we encountered an elderly gentleman of about 80, accompanied by two ladies also in their 80s, steadily making their way up. When we checked if they were okay, they replied cheerfully: "Oh yes, don't worry about us, this path is fine, done it loads of times before!" Absolutely brilliant. I hope we can do that at 80!

Following Cam Spout down to Great Moss, we found a gentle stream with beautiful rock pools. Crossing the flat, dinosaur-valley expanse of Great Moss in the still, hot, humid air left me completely knackered, though Neal seemed okay.

Knowing we had another 1,000+ feet of climbing back to Three Tarns, we pushed on. As we started the climb, I started to feel better while Neal began to tire! Reaching Three Tarns, we lay back on the rocks to replenish fluids and reflect on what we had accomplished.

The walk down The Band and back via Stool End Farm on tired legs ended with a burning sense of achievement and a fantastic pint outside the New Dungeon Ghyll—totally spent after 10 hours in a stunning place.