Hefted newsletter #1: July 2024
Despatches from Cumbria and the Lake District, from the team at Countrystride and Inspired by Lakeland
Welcome to the first edition of Hefted, a monthly newsletter from Mark Richards and Dave Felton at Countrystride, featuring a range of bite-sized news, views and long reads centred on the landscapes, people and heritage of Cumbria and the Lakes. This month, we have a tribute to the Iron Man, Joss Naylor; Mark strides out along Lady Anne’s High Way; Chris Butterfield reveals his five favourite Wainwright titles; and Alan Cleaver seeks out Cumbria’s most famous ghost.
The gather: Pick of the Cumbrian headlines
Fell-running legend and son of Wasdale Joss Naylor MBE has died aged 88. Tributes have poured in for the King of the Fells, including from the Fell Runners Association, which said it was "hugely saddened" by his death. “Joss inspired so many and will forever be remembered for what he gave to our unique sport.” More from The Guardian.
The first wildfire of the year, in Borrowdale, has been tackled by firefighters who reported the blaze was started by a discarded BBQ. More from the BBC.
Save Windermere main man (and guest of CS#127) Matt Staniek has won a major campaign boost after Labour’s environment secretary, Steve Reed, committed the party to cleaning up the lake. More from Save Windermere.
…on which subject, the Freshwater Biological Association is calling for volunteers to test the water quality of Windermere in the latest crowd-sourced ‘Big Windermere Survey’. The next one takes place in August. More from the FBA here.
Friends of The Lake District has launched a legal challenge over the National Park’s decision to grant planning permission for a major new tourist attraction at Elterwater. More from FlD.
…and Lakes Parish Council – which covers Ambleside, the Langdales, Rydal and Loughrigg, Grasmere and Troutbeck – has passed a vote of no confidence in the Lake District National Park Authority. Their decision, outlined in detail here, stems from “a series of longstanding concerns regarding the Park Authority’s management and decision-making processes”.
Police are continuing their investigation into the death of ‘Billy’, a much-loved goose in Whitehaven. More from Cumbria Crack.
Film crews have been spotted in Keswick at Manesty Park, on the shores of Derwentwater and along the A66. Are they working on the latest Netflix thriller from Harlan Coben? More from Cumbria Crack.
There are still a handful of tickets left for this summer’s Countrystride dinner and talks gathering, based in the rooms of Ambleside’s Kelsick Assembly / Force Café. Our guests are Tom McNally talking about ‘What lies beneath – the lost mines of the Lake District’ and Phoebe Smith in conversation with Dave about ‘Love, loss and life on Britain’s ancient paths’. More details on the CS website.
Striding out: Mark Richards’ walk of the month
Lady Anne’s High Way, Mallerstang
The 100-mile Lady Anne’s Way stretches from Skipton in North Yorkshire to Penrith. Largely a valley walk conceived by long-distance walkers Sheila and Frank Gordon, the seeds of the idea came following Sheila’s attendance at a lecture about Lady Anne Clifford, one of the most formidable women of the 17th century. In this month’s Striding Out, Mark walks the superlative 10-mile route from Collier Holme to Pendragon Castle.
From the cattle grid where the cul-de-sac road to Cotterdale breaks from the A684, we climb eastwards onto Cotter End. In misty retrospect are the slopes of upper Wensleydale, flanking scarps rising above the market town of Hawes. Panning right, Sandy Hill, on Widdale Fell, fills the near horizon and, as one walks, Whernside, 2,415ft, and Great Coum come into view overtopping Rise Hill. Next in the grassy series is Baugh Fell above Grisedale – ‘the Dale that Died’ – and Swarth Fell before the great table-top of Wild Boar Fell, 2,323ft. The currick-fringed summit plateau was admired by that great access campaigner – and man on the Westminster inside – Tom Stephenson, who achieved his ambition to establish a British Appalachian Trial when the Pennine Way opened in 1965.
The High Way – that runs some 500ft above the once-treacherous valley bottom, in which snake the rivers Ure and Eden – served and spanned many cultural ages. No doubt the Romans will have sped this way between their forts at Bainbridge (Virosidum) and Brough (Verteris). Latterly, drovers and traders picked along the airy terrace with their packhorses, as did Lady Anne herself, held aloft in a litter slung fore and aft between horses, her courtly retinue numbering 100 and more.
The turf trail, waymarked now as the Pennine Bridleway, crosses Hellgill Bridge, not only the county divide between North Yorkshire and Cumbria, but also the energetic headstream of that great Cumbrian watercourse, the Eden – one of few English rivers to flow north. High up, near the source of the Eden, stands Lady’s Pillar, which features the engraved initials ‘AP’ – Anne, Countess of Pembroke. These lonely upland moors are the limit of her Westmorland estate. I remember visiting the spot with Alfred Wainwright while he was gathering reference photos in 1973 for his book Westmorland Heritage [of which more below…], which marked the demise of the historic county in 1974. How times change; Westmorland is once more, if reconfigured.
The open track draws on to the impressively-sited Water Cut installation, one of ten Eden benchmark structures that are legacies of the East Cumbria Countryside Project. Ahead, attention is fixed on the widening Eden valley that marks the terminus of cloistered Mallerstang. The evocative name is a mix of Celtic and Old Norse suggesting a ‘stake in an open space’.
The track drifts down, with eyes cast up and right to the craggy rim of High Loven Scar atop Mallerstang Edge. Reaching the valley road, we cross, following the Deep Gill Farm track. After a beautiful stone-arched bridge spanning the energetic Eden, Lady Anne’s Way heads downstream, now over meadow ways to the sequestered hamlet of Shoregill. A final treat links back to Lady Anne: Pendragon Castle, which once guarded the valley bottom. Now, late afternoon sun casts shadows on a tumble-down memorial to past glories.
Joss Naylor: 1936–2024
We were fortunate to record with Joss in 2021, following the publication of his Lakes, Meres & Waters book (CS#64 – Joss Naylor). He was generous with his time, full of Wasdale wisdom, and witty to boot. Here the fell-running legend reflects on his childhood, the magic of Lakeland and the great medicine of solitude.
Photos by Danielle Ledbury
“I was born at Wasdale Head, and the valley’s been home all me life. Back in the ’30s we didn’t have a tractor; we cut the hay with horses and an old McCormick cutter bar. I remember as a child helping me grandfather at Greendale at hay time, using a scythe; the old lad had a caliper on his leg and used to knock about on a couple of sticks, but he could swing himself on those sticks and land about three metres from where he started; he had a good action with those things.
I went to school in Gosforth. Jack Allison used to tek us in his big Chrysler car. By the time we got to Gosforth, there’d be 14 of us in it. He used to lose one now’n’again – he’d go round a corner at the bottom of the big hill and if there was too much weight on the door, it’d fly open and one or two would end up in dyke.
I first got into running in 1960. They asked if I would run in the Wasdale Mountain Trial. I’d no running shoes or ’owt, so I ran in me work boots, cut the legs off the trousers and away we went. I was in lead at Black Sail Hut, but I got cramp in me leg and sat down for five or ten minutes. I didn’t get rid of it ’til Styhead Tarn. It was a learning curve.
Scafell Pike in 47 minutes
I once went up and down Scafell Pike in 47 minutes. It was in ’76 or ’77. I was supposed to be going up with these four young army officers who were doing it as part of a challenge. This chap rang me the night before and asked if I’d go up with them, but when I got to the bridge below Brackenclose where I was supposed to meet them, they’d already been gone an hour. I set off after them. This chap said to me friend John: ‘He’ll never catch my boys.’
After I jumped across the beck at the bottom of Little Brown Tongue, me legs clicked and I set off up like a rabbit. Just before I got to the summit cairn, I passed the army boys. I was still feeling good so I touched the cairn and set off back. There was a helicopter filming the Army lads and it swung round as I was going down. I came straight down the front of Lingmell, and they were filming me now. The downdraught off the helicopter was absolute magic. I didn’t half leg it!
John timed me and said it’d tekken exactly 47 minutes. I never thought ’owt else of it until a few years after, when one of these Italian lads in the Wasdale Race did it in 50 minutes. I thought to missel’ that 47 minutes wasn’t a bad time after all.
The great medicine
I never had a lot of interest in racing as such; I got more pleasure out of going for long trots on me own on a Sunday. Solitude is one of the greatest medicines on this Earth. Sometimes you just need to get away from it all and spend a bit of precious time on your own. Running well and taking in the views, you learn to put your worries to bed. Let them feet drop; get the tension out of your legs – just relax and enjoy it. You can switch anything bad out of your head and come back a better person.
But racing can be fun too, because of your fellow competitors – they’re a good bunch, all looking after one another. There’s this comradeship, and now, with the Fell Runners Association, they look after the young ones coming into the sport too. There’s more and more people with a bit of time on their hands who enjoy that sort of thing, and there’s a tremendous number of events in the calendar. It’s all good for the sport.
‘I could suffer’
Gathering sheep played a big part in me being able to run. When I bumped into Chris Chinn’s son Ben [at High Wallowbarrow Farm] during me second attempt of the Lakes, Meres and Waters in 2020, I told him to ditch his quad bike if he wanted to be a runner.
I used to put in long days on the fells. In them days, I never tired; I’d lie down for two or three hours in 24 – that’s all I needed. It’s about stamina, and it’s the way you were brought up in them days. Now the new generation are training like buggery. If you want to be successful and you’re not born with the right genes you have a lot of work to do; otherwise you can get away without a lot of training.
When you’re doing them long races, you’ve got to be prepared to suffer if you’re gonna be successful. I got a kick in me back as a small lad – a kick up the arse from me mother that went wrong. It wasn’t nice, and it was years before I got operated on. So, yeah, I could suffer; I had no bloody choice.
When I did the Coast to Coast in ’76, that was one of the most cruel things I did. We had a nice run over the moor from Robin Hood’s Bay to Osmotherley, but then it got hotter and hotter. The tarmac was running on the roads and you were literally pulling your feet out of it. It pulled the ligaments off me hips. We stopped the night in Tebay and next morning I was in pain; I couldn’t stride out. It was a long 70 miles to St Bees. When I put me feet in the sea they were burned to bits... I lost the pads off them and all ten toenails; it was torture.
Lakes, Meres and Waters
My Lakes, Meres and Waters run was one of the best things I ever did. I was about 47, in the prime of life and it was a day of magic. I set off from Loweswater at five in the morning and was still running past midnight – 105 miles in all. I had company all day: good craic with the right people in the right place. The Lake District is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen; wherever we went, it was summat special. Now’t went wrong all day.
When we got close to Over Water, near the end, I had lads running with us, a car behind and a car in front. There wasn’t a word spoken on those four miles up to Orthwaite. After the road, there were lads with lights shining a path down to the water. It was magic.
Me favourite lake is Buttermere. When I was doing me 70 at 70, I remember coming on to Hay Stacks and looking into Buttermere. It’s the most picturesque piece of water in the world is Buttermere. I sat there for a couple of minutes just admiring the views in that lake. They were sharper in the water than they were out.”
This interview, conducted in Autumn 2021, is taken from the book Why we run – Tales of fell and trail running in the Lake District, available from Inspired by Lakeland.
Listen to Joss on Countrystride #64, in which we talk about the Iron Man's lifelong love of Wasdale; recall a childhood of perilous school commutes and terrifying operations; consider the healing properties of Guinness; and take a crash-course in Herdwick contraception.
Latest podcasts
Countrystride #127 – Matt Staniek: Saving Windermere
...in which we stride out from Waterhead in the company of ecologist and Save Windermere campaigner Matt Staniek. Listen now >
Countrystride #126 – Pubs of Cumbria
...In which, standing in for Mark and Dave, BBC Cumbria's Nick Brownlee takes a seat at the bar to discuss the highs, lows and daily realities of operating a community pub. Listen now >
‘The Pimp’: Five of the best…
Wainwright publications
As chosen by Wainwright archivist Chris Butterfield
#1: Westmorland Heritage
Widely regarded as one of Wainwright’s masterpieces, Westmorland Heritage commemorates the historic county of Westmorland, featuring nearly 2,000 line drawings of its buildings, landmarks and scenery.
Paul Wilson, Lord Lieutenant of Westmorland between 1965 and 1974, played a pivotal role in the creation of the 1975 publication. Wilson also commissioned Wainwright to craft his iconic Westmorland Map, which aimed to preserve the essence of the old county before it was absorbed into Cumbria in 1974. Inspired by this project, Wainwright produced Westmorland Heritage, which he described as: “A book for those who have their roots in Westmorland.”
The book was originally released as a limited edition of only 1,000 copies, each signed and numbered by Wainwright. Nearly 400 copies were sold before the books were even bound, and the remaining copies were snatched up within two weeks of release. Decades later, Westmorland Heritage is still regarded as an essential title for Wainwright collectors.
#2: Ex–Fellwanderer
Wainwright was always known for being a private individual. His first autobiography, Fellwanderer, published in 1966, offered insights into the creation of his guidebooks, but revealed little about the man himself. That changed in 1987 with the release of his no-holds-barred follow-up.
Ex-Fellwanderer provides extensive insights into the author’s humble beginnings in Blackburn, where, like everyone else, he was destined for the mills. He then details the trip he took to the Lakes with cousin Eric in 1930, which was to change his life for good. Ex-Fellwanderer doesn't shy away from other subjects too, including politics. This is Wainwright unleashed, and it is one of his finest books.
#3: Pennine Way Companion
Wainwright’s name has long been linked with Britain's first official long-distance path. Indeed, his association with it overshadows that of Tom Stephenson, who created the walk. Tom campaigned for over 30 years to establish his ‘Long Green Trail’ from Edale to Kirk Yetholm.
Early guidebooks to the route were difficult to follow, prompting Wainwright to produce his own. From May 1965, he enlisted four correspondents to assist with the fieldwork, each covering a section of the route. Wainwright then verified the work.
Published in June 1968, Pennine Way Companion was an instant hit. The guidebook's innovative design reads from back to front, and from the bottom of each page up. While initially hard to grasp, it soon becomes intuitive, and during the 1970s, the route's popularity surged, the Pennine Way Companion outselling many of Wainwright’s Lakeland guides. For some, the promise of a ‘completer’s’ free pint (now a half) at the Border Hotel, funded by the great fellwanderer himself, was a greater lure than the walk.
My wife and I walked the Pennine Way in 2013 – our first long-distance walk – and to this day it remains our favourite walk.
#4: The Eastern Fells
Wainwright embarked on his 13-year guidebook odyssey on the cold winter evening of 9 November, 1952, an event that transformed his life and the experiences of generations of of Lakeland fell-baggers. The first book in the series, The Eastern Fells, is nearly 70 years old and remains unparalleled in its artistry. Each beautifully handwritten page – perfectly justified – is a designer’s delight.
Wainwright immersed us in a world of poetry and passion. He brought the three-dimensional mountains to life on the two-dimensional page, inviting the majestic hills into the reader’s home.
Prior to Wainwright, guidebooks to the Lakeland Fells were largely dull and uninspiring. His revolutionary approach – with meticulous attention to detail – transformed guidebooks into works of art that were both personal and profound. Despite technological advances, no modern guide has equalled them.
#5: A Coast to Coast Walk
Now over 50 years old, Wainwright’s Coast to Coast Walk is the pinnacle of hiking trails in the UK. The much-loved 192-mile route from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay draws thousands of walkers from around the globe every year.
It was dissatisfaction with aspects of the Pennine Way that spurred Wainwright’s definitive cross-country trail. He believed a ‘true’ Pennine Way would have started further south in Dovedale and ended at Hadrian’s Wall. As such, he considered the Coast to Coast Walk superior to Tom Stephenson's trail.
Unlike other long-distance paths in the UK, Wainwright’s route was unofficial by design. His intent is evident in the introduction and closing comments of the 1973 guidebook, where he encourages readers to embrace their creativity. Wainwright invites walkers to explore new, uncharted routes, venture off the beaten track, and seek solitude away from the crowds.
While much of Wainwright's trail traverses private land and has seen revisions over the past five decades, its essence remains unchanged, and when reading the guide, you can feel the love Wainwright has for his beloved northern landscapes on every page. Having walked it in 2015, I can attest that it is one of the UK’s great trails.
You can find Chris at https://www.alfredwainwright.co.uk/chris-butterfield-alfred-wainwright-books-memorabilia/ and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/chris1butterfield/
Cumbriana: Ghosts of the corpse roads
A column of curiosities, with Alan Cleaver
You might spectre see a veritable cavalcade of ghosts treading Cumbria’s corpse roads – those paths used in medieval times to carry the dead from remote corners of a parish to the mother church for burial. But even though dozens of these footpaths still survive today, the ghosts have seemingly drifted on.
The most famous corpse road ghost story tells of a young man dying and his coffin being strapped to a horse to be taken to church for burial. A storm spooks the horse and it bolts into the misty hills. Despite a long search, neither horse nor coffin are found. A few months later the young man’s mother dies and her body, too, is strapped to a horse to be carried by corpse road. Then, for a second time, a storm rises and the horse disappears into the mist. This time the search party is successful. It finds a horse with a coffin strapped to it – but it is not the mother’s coffin on it; it is the son’s. The mother’s coffin is never found, and it is said her ghost still haunts the corpse road.
This evocative Cumbrian ghost story was well known in the early 20th century, and was claimed by at least three corpse roads: Garrigill, Mardale and Wasdale. It was first put to paper by author Hall Caine in his novel The Shadow of a Crime (1885). Caine said he first heard the story from his grandfather, who lived in Wasdale.
So far, so good. But now the details get confused. Caine placed his corpse road “between the breast of Great Gable and the heights of Scawfell”. But there is not one there. Presumably he meant the nearby corpse road over Burnmoor that gave passage to Boot in Eskdale. He made one other mistake. Bodies were invariably carried in shrouds and only placed in a coffin at the church’s lychgate; strapping a coffin to a horse would be impractical and virtually impossible... but let’s not ruin a good ghost story!
Discover more... Corpse Roads of Cumbria by Alan Cleaver and Lesley Park is available from bookshops.
Postcards from the past
‘Keswick and Derwentwater’, postmarked 9 July, 1964, Lytham St Annes
A classic Abraham Brothers photo, looking down from Latrigg over Keswick, and showing Keswick Hotel, the station and a very compact town. The postcard reads: “Been to Keswick today. Rained most of the time.”
An excellent read throughout of a places ive been to and walked like Lady Anne's Way that i did a few years back.
Wonderful addition to your ever welcome podcasts from 12k miles away in NZ. I miss being there but you are my next best thing!