Striding Edge: Our First Real Scramble on Helvellyn
Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, told us about Striding Edge. Our Gran even phoned Dad to say 'be careful on that Striding Edge, now!' We heard all sorts: 'It's airy.' 'It's exposed.' 'You'll need a proper head for heights.' Hugo and I watched about fifteen YouTube videos before we went, seeing people crawling on their hands and knees, and honestly, we were a bit nervous. Like, butterflies-the-size-of-birds-in-your-tummy nervous. Dad said it was good to be a little bit nervous, it meant we'd be careful, but I just wanted to get there and see if it was as scary as everyone made out!
Starting from Glenridding, a pretty little village with sheep wandering around freely, the walk up to Hole-in-the-Wall (a gap in a wall, imaginatively named!) is straightforward enough. It was a long uphill climb, winding through rocky paths and past bubbling streams. We passed some shaggy Herdwick sheep who just stared at us. It was a sunny day, so we were already peeling off layers of fleeces. We munched on some cereal bars, and Dad told us stories about when he first climbed Helvellyn, which was reassuring. But when you first see Striding Edge stretching out ahead of you – this unbelievably narrow rocky ridge with stomach-lurching drops on both sides, with the wind literally whistling past your ears – your stomach does a little flip. Mine felt like it dropped right down to my boots!
And then the scrambling itself began. It was incredible! You're basically climbing along the top of a giant dragon's spine, with Red Tarn, a dark, sparkly lake, way below on one side and the Grisedale valley, all green and peaceful, on the other. Some bits you can just walk along, carefully, with your arms out for balance. Other bits, you have to straddle the ridge, like you're riding a horse, moving your hands and feet along the rocks. And at one point, there was a proper vertical bit where you had to use your hands and feet to climb down, like a ladder made of rock – that’s called the 'Bad Step'. My heart was absolutely thumping, but it was so much fun! The rock was rough and grippy under my hands, and I felt so focused, like a proper rock climber. The wind really pushed at us sometimes, so we had to brace ourselves constantly.
Hugo, being smaller and having tiny hands and feet, was brilliant – he could just scamper through little gaps and cracks that I had to go around. He was like a mountain goat! Dad was right behind us the whole time, a bit pale-faced and much more nervous than we were, I think! He kept saying 'three points of contact, boys!' which means always having two hands and one foot, or two feet and one hand, holding on. He wouldn't let us rush, which was good because it meant we could really enjoy the feeling of being up there, clambering over the rock. It felt like we were on top of the world.
The final pull up to Helvellyn’s summit, after all that exciting scrambling, was the icing on the cake. At 950m with views across the entire, sparkling Lake District – all those famous peaks like Skiddaw and Blencathra – we sat on the massive summit plateau and finally had our sandwiches, feeling like proper mountaineers after conquering such an epic route. They tasted like the best sandwiches ever invented! We could also see little ant-like people still making their way across Striding Edge, which looked even crazier from up high.
On the way down via Swirral Edge (another ridge, but much wider and less scary, thankfully!), we talked excitedly about how Helvellyn would look as a contour-line design. The unique horseshoe shape made by Striding Edge and Swirral Edge, curving around Red Tarn, is so distinctive and cool – it practically designs itself! We imagined all the curvy lines following the ridges, showing every little bump and dip. It was going to be an amazing t-shirt, a reminder of our amazing, super-scary, super-fun adventure.