Wild Camping: Why Is It So Popular? A firsthand experience

The Lake District has always been somewhere I have wanted to hike, and the idea of hiking up on the fells, zipping open the tent to a beautiful sunrise, has always appealed to me.

Actually doing it has been nothing like what you see on social media: picture-perfect weather, chic gear and an incredible pitching spot. My experience was nothing like this, but one I still loved and would love to repeat in different weather.

We began in the Walna Scar car park at the bottom of the Old Man of Coniston and paid £9 for 24 hours. The ascent to the top, carrying a lightweight 2-man tent, a large Tesco’s cheese and meats platter, as many Cadbury Freddos as possible and all the other gear you would need for camping, took approximately 2 hours 30 minutes. By the time we had touched the stone trig pillar to mark the top of the fell, the wind had really picked up. The view from the top was very cloudy and misty, but we were lucky that during the ascent we still had some incredible views of the lakes.

The Old Man of Coniston is 803 metres above sea level and, during clear skies, has some incredible views of the expansive hills and the large Coniston lake below. Our original aim was to camp here, on top of the fell where the ground was flat, but what the weather forecasted to be light 15mph winds were 30mph gusts that nearly knocked us off our feet.

After no deliberation (as it was in fact impossible to put up a tent in winds that had everybody’s eyes streaming), we started our descent down the other side of the Old Man of Coniston towards Little Arrow Moor where we hoped to find an overnight spot that didn’t send us flying off a cliff face. After walking a while and realising the wind would probably be at its mildest, we sat down behind a large rock that we hoped would shelter us from the worst of the weather. We waited until about 6:30 pm to get the tent properly pitched for about 7 pm, as wild camping in the Lake District isn’t strictly permitted, but it is tolerated if you abide by their etiquette.

This etiquette, in short, means to pitch late and leave early, and most importantly, leave no trace. Once the tent was set up and we ate our Tesco’s picky bits, we settled down to try and relax. In our bags, we had also packed books and playing cards in the hopes of unwinding before the early wake-up the next day, but the wind had us gripping the sides of the tent to keep it from collapsing on us.

We decided to attempt sleep, but that felt impossible. To anyone that has slept in a tent with massive gusts of wind seeming to hit you from all sides will know how terrifying the noise is. We would be just about to drift off when what felt like a group of 50 people circled our tent, shaking it and abruptly startling us awake. At one point, the tent collapsed, and it is a miracle we managed to drift off at all. As scary as it was, it was also thrilling and exciting.

We originally planned to set an alarm for 6 am to pack up and leave early, but we were woken up at 5 am due to torrential rain. Our worries about the wind were quickly replaced by the fear of being swept away by the rain, and our tent, slightly more bent in places than before, had never been packed away so quickly.

The morning sky was beautiful, dark at first but every minute it grew lighter. We watched the sky awaken as we grew soggier and let the fog from the mountains behind us envelop us before we began our descent. The walk back to the car might have been my favourite part.

Partly because we knew we had survived the night, but secondly, being the only ones for miles out in the middle of mountains, sheep and slate was a lovely feeling to have. Once at the car, we drove to the second largest town in Cumbria called Kendall and had a hot coffee and hot chocolate, accompanied by some warm cheese toasties. The toasties were from a place called “Crumb”, and I highly recommend trying it if you’re ever in the area.

On this day we planned to hike up to Helvellyn and again find somewhere to sleep for the night, but we decided against it. The wind would be worse, and the rain was relentless, so instead we found a beautiful campsite nestled between the hills and had a peaceful, uneventful night.

Since wild camping, our hiking has not stopped, but the plan of wild camping will be put on pause until we can be sure the weather is on our side. Our mission is now to tick off every fell in the Lake District and Cumbria, which I believe totals 214, if you’re going by Alfie Wainwright’s pictorial guidebooks.

Whether this is wild camping or a long hike with a warm bed at the end, I am most keen to carry on hiking the fells and be surprised by whatever view and weather greet me at the top.