ACROSS LAKELAND - A Northern Coast to Coast Walk: From St Bees to Robin Hood's Bay - page 41

(2700 feet) on the whaleback summit that now bears its name. The road linked forts
at Galava, Ambleside, and Brocavum (Brougham) at the confluence of the Lowther and
Eamont rivers, built, it has been suggested, to prevent the people of Hartsop, Deep-
dale, Glencoyndale and Bannerdale from joining forces with the tribesmen in Mardale,
Bampton and Askham to attack the fort at Brougham. Whether that is so remains un-
clear - indeed, there is some doubt the Romans were even the original route-finders. A
Langdale axe found near Troutbeck suggests a prehistoric route across the mountains
to the Neolithic and Bronze Age settlements among the limestone hills of east West-
morland.
Many similar axes from Langdale have been found along the River Humber - in fact
Humberside has the greatest concentration in Britain of Langdale axe finds. This all
suggests that a 'trade route' was pioneered across these fells more than 2000 years
before the Romans. Whatever the truth, the Roman High Street remains as a lasting
memorial to the skill and endurance of the Roman engineers and 'navvies' who, far
from the comforts of home, built and patrolled it in all weathers.
The path curves uneventfully above Riggindale to the sharp summit of Kid-
sty Pike, a profile recognisable from as far away as the M6 motorway, but
on closer inspection a sham in terms of independent grandeur as a moun-
tain, for in reality it is no more than a bump on the shoulder of Rampsgill
Head. No such falsehood for its setting, however - nothing could be finer,
a perfect place to rest awhile after the exertions of the pull from Patter-
dale.
WILDLIFE
Silent and observant walkers may be privileged to spot here some of the deer that roam
freely upwards across the fells from their sanctuary in Martindale, or the hardy, half-
wild fell ponies that wander through even the most bitter of winters. Rough fell sheep
scrounge scraps of food and nuzzle into your sac (if you let them), and, from time to
time, the lone, furtive shape of a fox skulks along beneath the crags. Most thrilling of
all, however, is the effortless flight of Lakeland's golden eagles, which returned to this
region after an absence lasting more than one and a half centuries. It was from the
slopes of Rough Crag that I first came eye to eye, literally, with a golden eagle, as it
slid lazily by less than 50 feet away. Wondering whether eagles ever looked on writers
as an al fresco snack, I lay motionless, totally in awe of its supreme mastery of the
air. The moment was an experience that was long to remain foremost in my memory,
until, many years later in the Pyrenees, I was rather too closely 'surveyed' by a griffon
vulture.