I was back at the New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, we were last here on the Cumbria Way and took the chance to sneak in a quick recce of Tarn Crag Ghyll. With the dry weather it was good to get a feel for the line and confirmed that I’m still not the biggest fan of wet Lake District ghyll scrambles! That slimy green sheen never quite fills me with confidence…
After a quick repack and a large peppermint tea, I wandered over to the Stickle Ghyll car park, where four of us from the Chris Ensoll Mountain Mentor group, including Chris himself, gathered for an evening adventure.
We discussed route options: some heading for one of the Diffs on Tarn Crag’s main face, others of us targeting the Grade 2 East Rib. With packs sorted, we dropped straight into Stickle Ghyll (aka Mill Ghyll) just above the car park. One of my favourite low-grade scrambles for building momentum and height in an enjoyable, hands-on way.
Chris and Simon surged ahead, setting a blistering pace up the beck. John and I followed in their wake.
It wouldn’t be a day out with Chris without some coaching. Sure enough, along the way, we paused for a few exercises, classic movement drills: posture work, balance games, leaps of faith and one particularly entertaining challenge involving how many steps you could take while descending a steep arête of a boulder. It reminded me of my excellent master class with Chris a few years back: playful, instructive and humbling all at once.
Here is a video from the masterclass that was made by FellmanDave who was one of the other attendees of the course.
Stickle Ghyll is a lively, open gill, often used as a sporting alternative to the main path to Stickle Tarn. With a mix of pools, rock steps and short walls. It’s the kind of route that feels fresh every time depending on your line. We clambered around deep pools, scrambled up clean slabs and even what felt suspiciously like a waterfall although I suspect that was just the line I chose!
I’ve done this gill several times over the years with different groups and I’m always struck by how flexible it is. Most of the difficulties are avoidable, which makes it a great place for adapting to the ability and confidence of whoever you’re with. That evening, we definitely didn’t take the easiest line and it was all the better for it.
One unexpected highlight: John spotted some sundew nestled among the mossy greenery. With #30DaysWild in full swing this June, it was a beautiful reminder of the quieter layers of mountain life. That there’s more to being out here than just gaining summits or bagging grades.
We reached Tarn Crag, traversed around to the base of the buttress and split. Chris and Simon began racking up for their route but not before the rope managed to tie itself into a tangled mess when being uncoiled. Cue the usual banter: “Well, you must’ve uncoiled it wrong…” It’s those little moments, of shared humour and faff, that cement new friendships in the hills.
John and I headed toward the East Rib, a short but satisfying Grade 2 line tucked around the side of the crag. According to the guidebook, the line starts below a steep recess marked by a holly tree although we probably didn’t drop quite far enough to hit the exact start, joining the rib a few metres up.
What followed was a cracking little ascent. Steep in places and mildly exposed but never pushy. The holds were excellent, and the rock’s gently backward-sloping strata gave confidence. It was like climbing up rows of inbuilt jugs. The scrambling was sustained enough to find rhythm but never stressful. We chatted as we moved, enjoying the views and the dry rock under hand.
Perfect conditions for a heatwave summer evening scramble.
We all reunited at the top, with the first sight of the climbers being Chris dog that came bounding across the hillside. Helmets were stashed and we began the descent, following a faint trail southwest from the top of Tarn Crag until it rejoined the main Stickle Tarn path. Needless to say, the pace down was sprightly.
It was a short outing, really. A few hours at most. But in that time we packed in: two quality scrambles, movement coaching, new friendships, old jokes and even a bit of botanical spotting. For me with my last trip to the Lake District being chasing snow earlier in the year it was exactly the kind of soul-food I’d been craving.
And yes, I definitely felt it the next day.