The Walk - Stage 1 - St. Bees to Ennerdale Bridge

You'll notice that the walk could actually depart from St. Bees to the north east vs heading west but we would miss that beautiful part of the coast and also getting to the most western point of Cumbria and seeing the lighthouse (we love lighthouses). Wainwright walked this way for good reason.

This is Julie and Andy Clarke, the couple we met at the inn who started the walk yesterday. She texted me last night when they reached Ennerdale Bridge and said the first day was more difficult than it seems, but there are lots of friendly locals along the way who are more than eager to chat and help. 

We awake to a typical English breakfast, which is a good thing, as we will need all the energy we can muster today. Another blessing is that our luggage gets left here, only to be awaiting our arrival at the next inn.

We put on our sun cream as we optimistically think the sun is going to shine today even though we are currently under heavy cloud cover. It is 51 deg with an expected high of 59.

After breakfast, we packed our backpack with rain gear, first aid kit, filled water bladders, and the lunch we requested from our Inn, got our hiking poles and took the first step out of the inn.  

About a mile from the inn, the beach at St. Bees is the recognized starting point for the Coast to Coast Walk. 

Notice that the top of the sign shows the elevation of the walk. Yikes!

St. Bees is both a fitting and inspiring beginning to the walk, filled with history, antiques and the beautiful Irish sea. To say we are excited is an understatement. I will try to remember this feeling as we traverse the Lake District and attempt the extreme climbs ahead.

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein, for he has founded it upon the seas and established it upon the rivers. Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy place?" Psalm 24 1:3 

The C2C has two traditions at the beginning of the walk: 

Jo Anne's trying to decide on a stone. 

    1) you pick up a stone from the Irish Sea to carry with you across England and throw into the North Sea when the walk is complete. I found a small one that won’t slow me down too much, and another for a souvenir.

I went in barefoot. 

Jo Anne said, well I'm not going to get my shoes completely wet 🤣. Famous last words. 

     2) you dip your toes into the Irish Sea and do the same in the North Sea when the walk is complete, so you can say you walked across the country, from sea to sea. We decided if we were going to do this walk, we might as well do it up proper. Most people walk into the sea with their boots on. I prefer to feel the water on my bare feet and don't really like the idea of starting off with wet boots, even if they are waterproof.

We’re off!

Way too early to need this!

Clouds are starting to break up

First sign post

And up the hill we go

Looking down from the top

The sea walls, built to protect St Bees from the worst ravages of the sea, end abruptly in a downfall of boulders and debris from the ever-crumbling cliffs, which we will soon encounter. 

"May he have dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth!" Psalm 72:8

I didn’t realize how steep the climb to the top of the cliffs was, until I was standing at the bottom looking up. I got a sinking feeling and my head starting filling with doubts – “This is not a walk – it’s mountain climbing! How are we going to finish this walk when the first steps are this difficult? We have about 200 more miles of this?”

With thumping hearts, we climb the windy cliffs of the coast, along the colorful, wildflower strewn pathway. At the top, we hardly notice the stiff winds because the views are so spectacular! What a glorious day!

The wide Irish Sea is to our left

Green pastures dotted with sheep and cows are to our right 

 And behind us is the sleepy village of St. Bees, growing smaller with each step.

We climbed over and went through many stiles today. 27 to be exact. I took a picture of every one but I will not post them all. 

Narrow trails lined with thorny blackberry bushes and another very sharp plant called gorse. See below. 

Squeezing through the thorny gorse. 

We walk across sandstone clifftops, rare in Cumbria, giving our legs, lungs and mind an introduction to what’s to come. On a clear day, there is a panorama of far horizons. 

To the south, beyond the towers of Sellafield (nuclear power plant), we see the whaleback summits of Black Combe

to the east, the first tantalizing glimpse of the high Lakeland fells (mountains)

while far out to sea, (30+ miles) the bluish form of the Isle of Man rises from a shimmering sea (not very visible in the photo). 

I kept trying to get a good photo of the birds but they didn't want to pose and I never had my camera ready.

more climbing

but first we had to go down 

and then come back up

The whole of St Bees head is formed from shales and sandstone, and dates from comparatively recent times in the geological evolution of the Lake District. This is the only stretch of Heritage Coast on the English coastline between the Welsh and Scottish borders, and therefore, is a "Site of Special Scientific Interest" (SSSI). The true geographical head is North Head, the most westerly point of northern England and the site of St Bees lighthouse. 

We don’t actually get to the lighthouse on the trail so while Jo Anne was trying to troubleshoot her water bladder, I skipped on up there to take a photo. It was first operated in 1718. In 1822, it was the last coal-powered lighthouse in Britain. Sadly, it was destroyed by a fire in which the keepers wife and his five children perished. The present structure, its light more than 100m above the sea, was erected in 1866. During WWII, a radar station was operated from here.

Stone bench. No we didn’t try it out. 

Preston Isle, a great mound of land south of Whitehaven, has had enormous influence on the prosperity of the town and its people. Beneath the surface they found extensive measures of coal, now largely worked out, and large quantities of anhydrite, or calcium sulphate, which can be used to manufacture sulfuric acid and cement. This ‘buried treasure’ has brought up to 2000 jobs to the area, in a district that has had more than its fair share of unemployment. However, we talked to a local and he wasn’t too keen on all of it. 

Scotland in the far background. If you zoom in you can see hundreds of windmills in the sea. Can't imagine what those do to sea life.

Excavating the red sandstone at Birkham’s quarry. 

so strange to just walk through private farms

a much needed rest for a drink - it was nice until a yapping dog and it's yapping owner ran up and disturbed the peace.

We now leave the coast of the Irish Sea and head inland. 

There were very few signs marking the C2C. It was always a blessing to see one and know we were on the right path. 

Before we descend into the village of Sandwith (pronounced 'sannith'), we are awed by the Dent Fell backdrop of Grasmoor, High Stile, Pillar, Steeple, Red Pike and the Scafells. Those are all the fells (mountains) you see in the distance. Awed because we will be climbing over those in the next few days.

A convenient bench sits at the road junction in Sandwith, and is tempting for a brief respite, however we decide to plod onward.

Unique fence

One of several water crossings. 

We decided to sit and have lunch under this railway bridge. 

Our packed lunch

We split a tuna/mayo sandwich. It was a little smashed. 

Had some digestives for dessert. 

Kevin cut us out some tyvek pieces to throw on the ground so we wouldn’t have to sit in sheep poo. 

No, you can’t have my tuna sandwich. Her response was baaa. 

 Once we managed the initial climb onto St Bees Head, the rest of the way to Cleator is easy (by comparison) and an exhilarating start to the walk, largely on good paths, tracks and lanes. The village of Cleator, like so many of the villages in this part of Lakeland, were dependent on mining for their well-being and prosperity, and it has clearly seen better days. Between 1840 and 1880 the villages here experienced a boom in population from 835 to 17,651, with the number of miners rising from 60 to over 6,000. The story was one of overcrowding and deprivation, of hard-drinking men, who brought to West Cumberland (from Ireland, Scotland, Cornwall, Northumberland, Lancashire and Yorkshire) a social atmosphere much like the Klondike Gold Rush, although long before that phenomenon reached North America.

Most unusual stile we saw today. 

It was a bit of a squeeze. 

The path into Cleator is an old railway line that has been converted to a walk/cycle path. It was really nice. 

Tunnel of trees

There were many old bridges

This one is called needless bridge 

More red sandstone work

Unique art signposts

And a very unusual C2C sign

Before arriving at Cleator Moor, Jo Anne has decided that she will take the alternate route vs going over Dent Fell. She is having pain in her hip and doesn’t want to risk overdoing on this first day. As it turns out, it was a very wise decision. So we split paths here and it was a bit unnerving for both of us. While we were standing there looking at the map a couple came up and asked if we were lost 🤣. Nope, just making sure she goes that way and I go this way. They walked with her all the way to the hotel where we are staying tonight. I, on the other hand, was completely alone on the climb up and down the fells. Since the couple walking with Jo Anne were real talkers, I think I got the better end of that deal. 

The first part of the walk up is on a forest road

It was quite a climb and seemed to go on forever.

Coming out of the forest. The end of the trail you can see at the top of the hill is a mirage. It just keeps going up and up. 

Looking back toward the Irish Sea

And over the valley 

And up toward the top 

 The walk through Uldale and Nannycatch to Ennerdale Bridge is a delight and easy enough, involving some road walking towards the end. But you have to get there first and Dent Fell stands in the way.

Wainwright commented that Dent Fell “impels the…urge to linger awhile”. This would be a masterpiece of understatement. Only those on a race to the finish would think lingering here anything but essential for survival. After remaining collapsed in a heap for some time, trying to catch my breath and relieve the burn in my rubbery legs, I am able to take in the wonders of this vast panorama. 

I wasn’t going to post this picture but Jo Anne said I had to. It was just a tad windy on the top of the fell. My red face shows how exhausting it was to climb and my smile shows how excited I was to make it. Well done me, as the Brits like to say. 

It is laid out like a map of towns and villages, fields and furrows, blue, swelling sea and misty isles, far-off mountains and richly green valleys.

"Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise from the end of the earth, you who go down to the sea, and all that fills it, let the desert and its cities lift up their voice...let the habitants...sing for joy, let them shout from the top of the mountains, let them give glory to the Lord, and declare his praise in the coastlands." Isaiah 42:10-12

 The view from its summit is truly grand in all directions, but the plod up from Cleator is wearisome, and the descent to Uldale is very steep, and that’s an understatement. I’ve never been down anything so steep in my life. It was a grassy drop and I wondered if I could just sit on my tyvek square, that we brought to keep from sitting in sheep poo, and slide down. 

AW writes – “a worthwhile expedition on a clear day, not so much for the views, which are dreary and uninspiring, as for the exhilaration of new territory, solace of solitude and beneficial exercise”

Solitude is a perfect description as earlier mentioned, I was completely alone on the entire journey up the fell and all the way into Ennerdale Bridge. It was a time for deep reflection and praise to my Heavenly Father for allowing me to go on this indescribable journey with my sister (who was sitting at the hotel worried sick about me). 

I followed this lovely, gurgling river for a good distance on my way into Ennerdale Bridge. 

Thankfully there were a couple of places where a partial bridge eased the crossing. 

Nannycatch Gate

 Ennerdale Bridge has very few visitors due to its inaccessibility and will likely never be high on any tourist itineraries, nonetheless, it is here that we will end our first day on the trail. Well not exactly here.

It is unfortunate, but our tour company booked us a room 3.5 miles off-trail from our destination this evening. In my perusing of the very limited amount of data they sent us, I realized this before we left home and requested that they provide transportation vouchers to the hotel today and back to the C2C trail tomorrow morning. We certainly do not want to add 3.5 miles to each of the two longest and most difficult days of the walk. However, they refused so I called for a taxi myself and we will do so again to bring us back to this point tomorrow to continue the walk. 

Our inn for tonight is the Parkside Hotel. It's nice and in a lovely location, but we are very tired and the added time to call and wait for pick-up is not a plus. 

We ate in the hotel pub. Actually the lady that walked with Jo Anne to the hotel said (and you have to read this in your best English voice with an up note on the end of every sentence), it’s nuthin but a poob (pub) and not very nice is it. Her husband said, they have rooms yeah. I’m not sure why everything sounds like a question over here. 

 I was absolutely starving and only left a couple of bites of this delicious steak and ale pie with a lasher of gravy. Yumm. Jo Anne didn’t eat nearly as much of hers. 

I am very thankful that I caught the booking discrepancy early enough to realize that we would need a taxi, so that we weren't arriving at our destination only to realize we have more miles to go before we sleep. Is it Frost who said: "the woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep"? Something like that anyway. I'm pretty sure if I was listening in my English Lit class that he was referring to death so maybe I shouldn't be quoting him here. 😏

I told Jo Anne she would likely have to roll me out of bed in the morning. 

40,208 steps

17.4 miles

99 floors 

It’s after 11 so goodnight.