Formed by billions of tons of ice during successive Ice Ages, the valleys of the English Lake District are some of the most beautiful landscapes you’ll find in the British Isles. There are plenty of people who would disagree, but to me the most beautiful of all is Great Langdale, a picture-postcard perfect slice of Lakeland scenery. The valley runs from near to the village of Ambleside, through the hamlets of Elterwater and Chapel Stile, before ending in the massive bulk of Crinkle Crags and Bowfell, which rise like an impassable wall at the ‘head’ of the valley.
The narrow valley floor is home to several farms, human habitation just about possible in the bottom of the valley provided you’re comfortable with isolation. On three sides the valley is overshadowed by some of the Lake District’s most impressive and popular hills: the Langdale Pikes, Pike o’ Blisco, Bow Fell and the Crinkle Crags. These hulking lumps of rock make you feel like you’re standing inside a vast amphitheatre. On a cold, crisp and clear winter’s day, it’s simply spectacular.
All down the valley, traces of centuries of human history are obvious. Slate mining has been a key economic activity in Great Langdale, and you can see the workings hewn out of the flanks of the mountains. This mining history goes back further to neolithic times, when 5,000 – 7,000 years ago a great neolithic culture thrived in Cumbria. The mountains around Great Langdale provided access to greenstone, ideal for making axe heads. Langdale axes were highly prized and have been found across Europe.
I’d dragged myself out of bed long before sunrise after a few days of Xmas festivities. Unsure whether this was a wise thing to be doing, I parked as the sun was tentatively illuminating the top of the Langdale Pikes, but the valley remained frozen and freezing as a brisk wind whipped along it and up towards my destination. The Crinkle Crags get their name from their unusual physical appearance, five large rocky undulations, or ‘crinkles’, and it’s my favourite part of the Lake District.
I wandered down the valley and alongside Oxendale Beck, crossing over the footbridge before starting the steep ascent towards Red Tarn. I trudged onwards towards the first crinkle. Here, on top of the southern tip of the crags the true majesty of this walk is revealed. To the east are panoramas over the Langdale Pikes to Fairfield and Helvellyn; north the views extend to Skiddaw and Blencathra, to the west, the entire Scafell range and sweeping vistas over the Eskdale Valley to the Irish Sea. It’s ridiculously beautiful. To be in the mountains on a day as glorious as this is simply euphoric.
The second crinkle, Long Top, is the highest point on the walk and contains a surprise, the Bad Step. Approaching the Bad Step, the trail disappears into bare rock. On closer examination it’s clear that you can climb through or over the fallen boulders that have formed it. Years ago, when I walked here regularly, there was a gap in the Bad Step that it was possible to squeeze through. Either the hole has become smaller or I’ve become larger. It was obvious I wouldn’t be squeezing through it today. The climb over was too icy to attempt, so I looped around the back.
As I walked further, I reflected on Alfred Wainwright’s wise words about the Crinkle Crags: “the traverse of the ridge being amongst the grandest mountain walks in Lakeland and strenuous effort will be recompensed by superlative views. Timid walkers will be less happy and may find the mountain hostile but should attempt it: other mountains are climbed and forgotten but Crinkle Crags will always be remembered”.
I vividly recalled the day when I found myself here in very hostile conditions. The day started clear and bright, by the time I reached the third crinkle strong winds, plunging temperatures, lashing rain and thick low cloud had turned this into a battle for survival. I became disoriented and, foolishly without a compass, found myself descending out of the cloud into the wrong valley. I had to go back into the ‘weather’ and try again. This is a mountain I’ll always remember, good and bad.
Eventually, I reached the Three Tarns (all frozen) where the route either continues over Bow Fell or descends The Band to Stool End Farm. I opted for descent and to celebrate a fantastic winter walk with a pint of winter beer in the legendary Old Dungeon Ghyll.