Slow Start Sunday
After yesterday’s triple-header of Black Fell, Silver How and Castle Crag, we weren’t exactly leaping out of bed. A slow start was in order. I fuelled up with a Costa coffee and pastry, while Ami and I both grabbed sandwiches from the local store to serve as lunch-on-the-fell.
The destination was the National Trust car park at Honister Pass. The plan: a simple loop up the southern side, bag a few summits, and try not to melt in the sun. It turned out to be a day of admiring the rather beautiful Buttermere valley and the intimidating Great Gable from multiple different angles.
Grey Knotts: Lunch with a View
The first climb of the day was straight out of Honister, no warm-up allowed. The path wastes no time in going steep, but eventually it delivered us onto Grey_Knotts. The summit is a jumble of crags scattered with heather, feeling wild and rugged without being too intimidating.
We perched here for lunch, sandwiches in hand, with sweeping views down into the Buttermere valley. If only all picnics came with this kind of backdrop.
Grey_Knotts feels like a proper fell-top — rough underfoot, a scatter of heather and tumbled crags giving it a wild, untamed air. Though it isn’t especially high or remote, the summit carries a sense of ruggedness, perched above Honister Pass with grandstand views across to Great Gable. It makes for a fine first stop, with the Buttermere valley unfolding below like a painted backdrop.
Brandreth: The Grassy Knoll
From Grey Knotts it was a short hop over to Brandreth. Compared to its rocky neighbour, Brandreth is a grassy, gently rounded affair. More “Sunday stroll” than “epic climb.”
What it lacked in drama it made up for in perspective. The views back over Buttermere and across to the central fells were excellent. The sun had been on us all morning, and by now it was starting to feel like a bit of a slog.
Where Grey Knotts is craggy and angular, Brandreth softens the mood. Its rounded, grassy dome feels almost pastoral in comparison, a place of gentle curves rather than dramatic edges. Yet from its broad top the views stretch handsomely, taking in the length of Buttermere and across to the high spine of the central fells. It’s a summit that invites you to linger, even if only to catch your breath before moving on.
Fleetwith Pike: Buttermere’s Balcony
The walk across to Fleetwith Pike was mostly grassy again, but the destination made it worthwhile. Fleetwith’s summit commands one of the finest views in the Lakes — that iconic plunge straight down into Buttermere valley.
We flopped onto the rocks for a well-earned breather, legs complaining but eyes very happy. Warm sunshine, sweeping views, and just the faintest sense that we’d bitten off enough for one day.
Fleetwith Pike is all about drama. Its summit commands one of the most celebrated viewpoints in the Lake District — a sheer plunge straight down into the Buttermere valley, with the mirror-still water far below. Standing on the edge feels like standing at the balcony of a theatre, the stage set with Haystacks and Great Gable in the wings. Few summits deliver such an instant “wow,” and it’s easy to see why this little peak leaves such a lasting impression.
The descent was a careful shuffle down the old quarry roads, which at least spared the knees from heather-bashing. Back at Honister by mid-afternoon, we admitted defeat on the idea of another summit. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valour.
Beer, Buttermere, and Back to Keswick
Instead, we diverted into Buttermere village for a swift non-alcoholic beer — refreshment without regret. Then it was back over the Newlands Valley road towards Keswick, narrow in places but thankfully light on traffic.
Petrol stop accomplished, we retired to the flat for showers and recovery. Dinner was at Merienda, a friendly café on the square in Keswick. Ami sensibly headed back to the flat afterwards. I, however, found myself loitering outside the tapas bar opposite, beer in hand, chatting with diners waiting for tables. A civilised end to a solid day.
Wainwrights Completed on This Day
