Last updated on March 14th, 2024 at 09:19 am
Motivated by Jo Williams’ suggestions for five easy walks in the Lake District, a bright April morning found the ABAB team resolutely heading in the direction of the northern English Lakes, with the ultimate destination being Cat Bells. Look elsewhere for furry friend gadgets. Cat Bells, or Catbells, is, for the benefit of the uninformed, a fell, or modest mountain, a few miles from the Cumbrian town of Keswick and on the western shore of Derwent Water. As a walking project, Cat Bells offers several advantages. Firstly, at 1481ft (451m) high, it is relatively low, easy to conquer and therefore an ideal mountain for virgin hikers. Secondly, because it is fairly popular, the path is well-trodden so it is hard to wander off and get lost. And last, but definitely not least, the views are terrific from start to finish. Let’s be honest: there is limited value in undertaking this walk in poor visibility. Actually, I don’t know about you, but I’m way past the age when I consider it a jolly jape to walk anywhere in bad weather. And if an inability to see where I’m going increases the risk of falling off a large rock, count me out.
It had been many years since I had skipped and danced my youthful way up Cat Bells. We met long ago during a school geography field trip and my first visit to the Lake District. I couldn’t believe how beautiful the area was; and Cat Bells was the gentle baptism of fire chosen by the teachers for their willing, shining morning-faced, charges to tackle. It saddened me to discover, a few days after my recent, belated, return visit, that the leader of that trip all those years ago, an exceptionally kind and inspirational schoolmaster, had died just the week before. Perhaps I was paying unconscious homage to him, and what he gave. One of the good guys – thank you, Bob McFadden; RIP.
Moving on – aren’t you intrigued by the name? The prevailing view seems to be that it is a corruption of ‘cats’ bield’, harking back to a time when wildcats were widespread in Britain, ‘bield’ being an archaic word meaning home, shelter or refuge. So – a place of wildcats, then. Sadly, these creatures are now on the verge of extinction in Britain and only found in the Scottish Highlands. They disappeared from the south of England in the 16th century and I read that the last one in the north was shot about 150 years ago. The European wildcat is a distinct breed, felis silvestris, similar in appearance to a large domestic tabby, but more muscular, with a thick, blunt, tail. They can grow up to almost a metre long, but are threatened by loss of habitat and hybridisation – breeding with feral domestic cats. I was surprised, but pleased, to read there are at least two programmes to reintroduce these shy, native, wild animals to the wild during the 2020s. I doubt they would last long on Cat Bells, though; it is far too busy.
Of course, there is more than one way of skinning a cat, but most people approach Cat Bells from the north. The starting point is near a cattle grid about a ¼ of a mile west of Hawes End. A car park is shown on the OS map, but this is so small we completely missed it – unless it was a patch of worn earth big enough for about 3 vehicles under some trees with unobtrusively dangerous tree roots that would tear the underparts off my low-slung saloon. There is very limited roadside parking – just a few makeshift pull-ins – and parking restrictions are rigorously enforced. So, if you’re driving get there early. Given the popularity of Cat Bells, tackling it at the beginning, or end, of the day is good advice anyway, to avoid the crowds. An alternative, civilised, start could be via the regular ferry service that runs from Keswick to Hawes End; or you can walk from Keswick – it’s about 3 miles.
We have suggested – and this is supported by every other source you will find – that to walk up Cat Bells is easy. And it is – relatively. The official distance from the cattle grid to the top is given at just a mile, or about an hour. However, I should point out that these figures are completely unreliable and may even discriminate against slightly over-weight, over-middle-age, blokes. I was cheerfully wheezing after a few hundred yards and, feeling it was the right thing to do, carried on wheezing until I reached the summit. And it certainly felt longer than an hour. The path is simple to follow, though, a kind of hikers’ version of the M6, and there was plenty of room for everyone else out that day to pass us with ease. “Surely, you can’t see much,” I mused, “walking that fast?” Two warnings: steps and scrambles. The National Trust, which owns Cat Bells, has carried out extensive repairs to eroding paths by inserting tough rock-steps; these are great, and will protect the mountain, but can be hard on the feet. There are also a couple of places where scrambling on hands and knees is necessary. These do not present any real difficulty, and aren’t particularly dangerous, though the more vertically-challenged might struggle in places and it would be slippery in the wet.
Mid-way up the first rocky scramble, Skelgill Bank, is a memorial plaque to Thomas Arthur Leonard. Thomas Arthur Leonard (1864-1948) was a pioneer in developing organised outdoor holidays for working people through the Co-operative Holidays Association, which he founded in 1893, and was also instrumental in establishing both the Youth Hostels and the Ramblers’ Associations. He continues to be regarded by many as “father of the open-air movement,” which is mentioned on the plaque along with the epitaph, “Believing that ‘the best things any mortal hath are those which every mortal shares’ he endeavoured to promote ‘joy in widest commonality spread’.”
The views on this walk open up almost as soon as you set off. Cat Bells sits on a ridge with Derwent Water to the west and Newlands Valley to the east. To the north is Skiddaw and, to the left of that, Bassenthwaite Lake. Over to the north east is the distinctive shape of the Blencathra range, or Saddleback. Derwent Water is one of my favourite lakes, an elegant expanse of water with intriguing-looking islands and, at its southern end, the theatrically-named Jaws of Borrowdale, where the valley narrows between the steep rocks of Castle Crag and Kings How. It is like being in the pages of a Tolkien novel.
As if being there wasn’t exciting enough, the RAF treated us to a short display on our way to the top of Cat Bells. First, out of nowhere, a Eurofighter Typhoon spine-jarringly roared across the lake from the east, banked suddenly, displaying its delta shape, and peeled off, in warp drive, over Bassenthwaite leaving us more breathless than we already were. Later, a Hercules rumbled into view, beneath us, taking a similar route. This reappeared from the south a little while after, flying very low the length of Derwent Water. Frankly, if I hadn’t been watching in colour it could have been a scene from the Dam Busters. Left a bit; right a bit; steady, steady… And, before someone who takes themselves far too seriously pipes up that 617 Squadron flew Lancasters, thank you, it’s not necessary.
The second small scramble is just before the very top, where there’s a neat little slate summit cairn. The adjacent slopes seemed a good spot for an early lunch, so we happily munched our butties while enjoying the views. The way down is a continuation of the path south, which leads temptingly deeper into the mountains of Mordor, before taking a zig-zap path left. This eventually joins a serious pathway, the Cumbria Way, which provides a more or less level and effortless stroll back to the start point. Before we got there, we rested a short moment on a splendid stone bench overlooking the lake and, immediately below, a simply lovely house built in local slate. On the rock behind, a plaque told us that the seat was erected in memory of Hugh Walpole of Brackenburn by his friend Harold Cheevers. Hugh Seymour Walpole (1884-1941) was a well-regarded novelist – in fact, a best-selling author in the 1920s and 1930s. He lived in the lovely house, Brackenburn, from 1924 until his death, describing it as, “this enchanted place, this paradise on Catbells”.
And there seems an appropriate place to end. Unless you’d like to watch a short film.
I admit not knowing much about Britain, so this is terrain that I didn’t mentally picture. Thanks on expanding my viewpoint.
It’s a pleasure. Thanks for dropping in – I hope you enjoy some more!
I’d like to say what a great postMe and my girlfriend climbed Catbells in June 2021 and we totally agree the views are phenomenal and to say its a relatively short climb we took our time and relished the beauty.We are new to hiking so made this our first one and we wasn’t disappointed.Skiddaws next on list we’ve already got Hundith Hotel booked for the 2nd of October which will be our 5th trip to the Lake District having fallen in love with this beautiful place we’re looking to relocate from Yorkshire.Sorry for rambling on but thank you fir highlighting this magnificent part of the world.We also found the part about your teacher very movingR.I.P
Thanks very much, Martyn; glad you enjoyed it. Hope you keep rambling (in both senses) and manage to relocate.
I love the name of the place (of course!) I hope your wheezing didn’t last long – I hope they can keep the wild kitties from disappearing altogether.
I’m with you on both wheezing and wild kitties, Lisa!
Such amazing views!
Thanks, Nikki – they certainly are!
Lovely writing about Cat Bells and the photos are stunning. Touching to read your comments about your school master, my Dad! He so loved walking in the Lakes and at one time wanted to have his ashes scattered on Helvellyn or Sca Fell! He loved teaching and sharing his passion for geography and geology with those who wanted to know more. And he encouraged a love for learning in many people.
Thanks, Alison. My condolences to you and your family. ‘Jock’ (as he was known in my day) was a lovely guy and an inspirational teacher. I think he was disappointed I did so badly in my geography A level – but I have never forgotten him and I know many, many others won’t have done either. This may amuse you – it was written some time ago – Malham Cove
This looks like a walk even I might be able to do! The views are gorgeous and what wonderful weather you had!
Thanks, Clare – yes, we were very lucky.
Beautiful place to see. Great images Mike.
Thanks, Anita!
The views are stunning 🙂
Thanks, CP – certainly great views all the way.
Wonderful pictures and recount – inspiring to read.
As is the memory of your school master.
Thanks, Emma. Great weather for photos!
We have a lot of similar places here, but it’s fun to see them in other countries. Thank you.
I’ll have to write a bit about similar places sometime…
I just love the Lake District and really miss it. We had a weekend booked at the end of March 2020 – guess what happened! I’m not sure we’ve ever done Catbells. If we have, it was on an early visit in the 1980s. But I definitely want to do it now.
Yes, I love the Lakes too – not as grand or isolated as the Highlands, but beguilingly pretty in places. Hope you get rebooked soon.
What a glorious post! The colours in your photos are stunning. I’m walking even more these days as our Border Collie is about to celebrate his first birthday. I think this hike would be his idea of heaven! I do walk in bad weather but that’s because I have to with our furry friend.
Thanks, June. I reckon your Border Collie would make light work of this one!
These views are fabulous although I’m not sure I’d be up for the climb. I think I was fine till the hands and knees part at which my own knees were screaming to me “Don’t even think it!” I love the name, though! And oh, those vistas are stunning.
It was my feet that objected more than my knees. It was worth it, though!
Wonderful views and in such beautiful weather too! I completely agree with you about not seeing the fun in walking when it’s terrible and I can’t see a thing 🙂 I suspect my days of climbing even a small mountain are now behind me but I’ve enjoyed my virtual climb with you 🙂
Thanks – actually, apart from a small amount of scrabbling, Cat Bells is quite easy – but you do need good weather to appreciate the views.
My knees have an objection to climbing anything more than a flight of stairs so even without scrabbling I think I’d have to pass!
Very well done, Mike.
Thank you, Derrick.
Fantastic photos, Mike. I’ve not climbed Cat Bells. When I went on a school trip, our teachers weren’t so kind and took us up Helvellyn!
Oh, trust me, Vivienne – they made up for it with subsequent walks. But I didn’t tackle Helvellyn until some years later. Helvellyn, England’s third mountain
Thanks Mike – gorgeous to see and read about … even the guy in shorts and long socks … beguiling men! Cheers Hilary
I like to imagine he lost his school cap and blazer on the way up, Hilary.
As your link showed, the best way to explore Derwentwater (at my age, at least) is always via the ferry service. Not only is the service more civilised and less sweaty, but the sights are better enjoyed and the photographs look wonderful.
If you want the family to think you did it all on foot, fib to them only once you get home 🙂
You’re certainly right about the ferry being less sweaty, Hels 🙂
You had great weather for your hike! It is the kind of hike O.K. and I would love, the views are really beautiful and although I would probably wheeze my way to the top, it looks manageable.
Yes, I think you’d enjoy that Meike – though I suspect you’d wheeze far less than I did!
The most entertaining Guide to a hike that I can remember reading.
That’s very flattering, Geoff – no pressure for the next post/article!
Good choice of walk as it offers everything and is within reach of most of us. You chose a fabulous day for your photo walk.
Thanks, Marie. I think the weather chose us!
AWESOME POST
Thanks, Joanne!
Thank you for these virtual walks. How beautiful!
Glad you liked it, Jennie.
You’re welcome, Mike.
I’m so glad my post inspired you to revisit this wonderful part of the Lakes! Great time of year for walking, we tackled the Old Man of Coniston the other day. Looks like you had the weather for it, and the RAF, showing off as usual…
Thanks, Jo, good to hear from you. I really should get round to the Old Man of Coniston one day.
What spectacular scenery. I’d have been wheezing along some distance behind you!
Oh, I can wheeze as badly (or as well) as the next man!
that looks and sounds like the perfect hike; relatively easy and spectacular views. added to my list… hopefully we get those fly-bys when we visit 🙂
I like the idea that ABAB might be making your list longer, Jim! 🙂
and I like that my list is getting longer!
A great walk, Mike. Next time I’m in the Lake District, I’d like to try this “stroll”, albeit with my hiking poles. At nearly 86, I no longer have the youthful ability that once let me walk for miles on end, without resting!
I really hope you do – let us know how you get on!
Great photos Mike. It’s a good walk for all levels of fitness!
It is, Peter. Just a tiny bit of crawling.
Beautiful views!
It looks an amazing walk, great views. Well done on the photo’s, smashing set!
Thanks, Fraggle – lucky with the weather and my old Instamatic’s OK outdoors 🙂
What a wonderful hike! A mile uphill (or upstairs) is much different from a mile on the flatland- I’d probably join in the wheezing, though the views are well worth it. The kids particularly like the wildcat.
But you know, the type of plane in Dambusters weren’t- oh, wait. Nevermind 😉 (Just kidding, of course.)
Thanks for taking us along on another journey!
It’s all a bit much at my time of life… 🙂
What fabulous views, I love the first shot and the one below the aeroplane shot. I must admit you’re tempting me – I’ve got ten days just north of Bassenthwaite booked for late June/early July so maybe…. 🙂
You’ll be on the doorstep, Eunice!
The views are amazing!! Such a lovely spot.
Thanks, Darlene; it’s certainly very photogenic!
Gorgeous pictures…hope I get to visit some time. Also love the personal remembrance of your headmaster RIP.
Thank you; I hope you get to visit too!
Wow, such a beautiful place, Mike! I’d love to be there. That guy’s socks and shoes are… different!
Everyone has their own style, I guess!