Lakeland 200

Bike

Mountain biking in the Lakes is world-class, with big rides characterised by exposed mountain passes, steep, rocky trails, loose, technical descents, and unpredictable weather. Added to this is lots of hike-a-bike and remote, hard-to-access areas. Although the Lakes are the wettest place in England, many of the trails are rocky, so withstand the rain and drain through quickly, making it rideable year-round.

The Lakeland 200 is a bikepacking route that circumnavigates the national park, curated to cover as much terrain as possible in one go, including many local classics, and racks up just over 6,000m of climbing across the 200km loop. Over the last few years this ride has earned quite the reputation as one of the toughest off-road challenges in the UK, with many who set out on the ride failing to finish. The route was devised by Alan Goldsmith, of Highland Trail 550 fame, and was designed and established to be ridden as an individual time trial, predominantly in training for long, high-altitude riding.

2 June 2022

I’d planned a solo bank holiday weekend mission to give this ride a crack. I arrived in the Lakes a few days earlier and got settled with a few warm-up rides, which also allowed me to pick the best weather window for the long ride. This is a big, challenging ride and the first on my new mountain bike. I’m anticipating a lot of walking up- and down-hill, plus some wet weather, despite being June.

I wanted to ride as much daylight as possible, I couldn’t risk riding these techy trails, up or down, in the dark as I’m so unfamiliar with the trails here. This time of the year then, should be ideal, with sunrise to sunset being around 5am to 9pm. I’ll be taking it fairly steady though and plan to stop for a short sleep at some point on the loop.

I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d fare on this ride, as my time in the saddle this year so far has been the lowest in a long time. Through winter and spring I’ve been concentrating on ski touring and therefore running, climbing and focusing on strength. I’m feeling fit, though, and despite fewer kilometers in my legs than I’d like, the additional strength should stand me in good stead up here as I knew I’d be carrying my bike a lot.

133km | 4000m+ | 15/20 hours

I woke feeling surprisingly chirpy for 03.15, had some porridge and got layered up. It was just light and pretty chilly, around 6 degrees. I was on the road for 04.00, ready to get my legs spinning and settle in. For the first hour I cruised along weathered tarmac lanes and chunky gravel roads, moving to rockier farm tracks as I rode away from the built-up areas around Staveley. The morning pink and blue sky had me stopping too much for photos, but I was happy to be feeling good and excited a big, challenging day. 

The tracks got rowdier as I enjoyed a fast, slabby rock descent down into Troutbeck, pushing me out onto a road and a steep tarmac climb back up the other side. Once high again I looked down on a morning cloud inversion on my way into Ambleside. Moving onto wet rock as in shade under tree cover, it was slippy, and I slid out once but got a solid foot down, so hopped off and walked the next few meters.

After moving through Ambleside I skirted Loughrigg Fell, alongside Loughrigg Tarn with a morning reflection in the water so I stopped, at 06.30 for some food, now 2.5 hours in and saw my first person of the day. On to Langdale, then down south to Outgate where the cloud hadn’t yet lifted and I rode in heavy white morning mist. Up and over the slate mine and quarry and its lumpy ups and downs with larger rock sections which were easier and safer to hop off and quickly push up. I was then back on road for a long tarmac climb onto Steep Wray Heath Base Camp, then shot down farm tracks and fields to Estwaite Water. This was nice, fast-rolling gravel.

I stopped at the Boathouse Cafe for a quick espresso on the waterside at 09.30 - I’d been going 5.5 hours now so needed coffee and it perked me right up. Straight away I was going uphill again and the day was now heating up, so trousers off and sunglasses on. I reached Grizedale so was lurred in to feeling like I was making good progress, so far there’d just been small sections of hiking, five-ten minutes at a time max, and no carrying. I knew longer sections would soon be coming.

Fire roads, more short and spicy descents, then tracks out of Grizedale forest and on to Coniston followed and I arrived in a busy town. I resupplied on fluids at a petrol station and had some more food. So far I was feeling good and glad to be staying on top of eating and drinking as it was warm now. The town was super busy and as I rode out the climb got steep and the road turned to gravel then to a stoney path. Overheating from the ascent, I dipped my head in the stream halfway up and cracked on. It was midday and so I was eight hours in and 65km covered. From the back of the top car park the scenery opened up and I was on my own again as the road turned to gravel on the Walna Scar Road climb proper, which would take me around Old Man of Coniston and Brown Pike. The rocks got chunkier and stalled my progress as I ascended and I was off and pushing again. I reached the summit and didn’t hang around, heading straight down on the short, sharp, fast pace descent, taking a sharp left turn onto a boggy, lumpy track.

It was cloudier on this side of the Lakes, with a nice breeze and the wet, boggy single track had me double and triple checking where the trail was and what direction I needed to go. The air turned coastal then could see the coast! The area was now lush and green with wide-open scenery. My body was still feeling pretty good, although it was nearly 14.00 and I’d been snacking for the last 10 hours and could do with a proper meal. I could feel my brain was starting to get tired now though in the heat as I was making a few not-so-ideal line choices when descending. I really didn’t want to puncture or crash so pit stopped at Newfield Inn for crisps and Coke and a chat with actual other people to get myself together.

I now moved on to the western section of the route that runs through the most mountainous-feeling valleys of the Lakes. After a long, draining section of bog that I dragged my bike through, I paused on a bench to refuel and needed to get energised and my enthusiasm back again. The section at the start of the route around Hardknott forest really dragged - the worst part so far. I was wading through bog up my shin multiple times and turned around several times to figure out where I needed to be. More climbing on rocky paths and lugging through bog followed and took me over Harter Fell and past Burnmoor Tarn. It was 16.30 now and the day transitioning to evening. The last three or four hours had been tough going and very slow progress so skewed my predictions on progress which was frustrating. The daylight was slipping away.

In my head I had a target for dinner in Keswick at some point in the evening. It was now 17.00 and I have the road climb and two huge hike-a-bike climbs to take on. So now it was looking unlikely, but I was hopeful for last orders! More rocks and bog followed, especially on the second ascent on the lump before Black Sail, named Old Corpse Road, which I reached at 18.30. This area felt remote and desolate and bit dull. I was finally down and off it at 19.00. Now on to the main event of Black Sail at dusk.

From Wasdale Head, I picked up the stony trail over Black Sail Pass. In terms of hike-a-bikes, of which there are many on this ride, the double whammy of Black Sail Pass and Scarth Gap Pass present the biggest challenge and form the crux of the route. They also come at the end of a long day so timing could be better!

On my way past, I filled up water bottles at the campsite at the foot of the Pass and headed off through the gate at 19.15, and saw a few people coming off the mountain. About 20 minutes in, a few spots of rain started which initially were refreshing, as long as they weren’t going to develop into something heavier. An hour later and I’m over halfway on the climb in terms of elevation. The large boulders to carry my bike over were relentless. I looked down at my bike computer and was on 106km now though, which felt good to be over halfway on the total loop. 

I topped out on the summit at 20.40 - so it took me about 90 minutes in total to get up, which I thought to myself wasn’t too bad, however the rain had gotten heavier. Now for the descent, which was immediately obvious would also be a carry rather than a ride. This is more tricky though and I felt I could easily do some damage to my bike if it got away from me and bashed it on some rocks. I rode a few bits of the trail, although it was hardly worth the effort of getting on the bike, but I wanted to use some different muscles, even for just 30 seconds.

I reached the YHA Hostel which sits inbetween the two mountains at 21.10. The light was fading, but still popped in for a water refill and to say hello. This hostel was founded in 1933 and was formerly a shepherd’s bothy, and it’s one of the most atmospheric hostels in the UK, especially unique because it can only be accessible by foot or bike. I’d tried to book a bed herefor the night a long time ago but it was fully booked.

Scarth Gap Pass was waiting for me, another tough hike-a-bike climb on slippy rocks. I was feeling relatively strong and wasn’t too concerned about the next climb physically, but it was getting late and wet, which I wasn't feeling good about, knowing conditions would worsen as I headed up again. This climb is shorter than Black Sail, around half the size, but again, once you summit you are again faced with a technical boulder field descent to navigate down. This leads to the shores of Buttermere where Honister Pass road climb waits.

I lugged my bike up, summiting at 22.00. This way up had slightly more of a defined path with rock steps to follow. It was almost pitch black now, though, so it was more difficult to navigate my way down. On the other side of the Pass, it was also much wetter, the rain heavy and also windy, making things increasingly tricky. I put my extra gloves on and hood up under my helmet.

My concentration flickered on and off now as I also struggled to see clearly and my glasses were covered in rain drops. I was getting cold now so needed to get down as quickly as possible and was keen to ride the flatter, easier sections to speed things up and also give my legs and arms a break from pushing my bike. I could see some lights below which looks like a farm or grouping of houses, and thought I’d be able to find shelter from the rain to bivvy down for the night there, and take on Honister Pass in the morning.

I turned my light on full beam and got on my bike for what looked like a simple section of the path. After ten or so meters I was clearly very wrong, and within a second I was sent hurtling over the handlebars. I came down hard on my left leg and was initially very concerned, thinking it could be broken. Once I’d double-checked, it looked and felt OK, and I could stand up, so I picked my bike up, brushed myself off and pushed on, feeling even more urgency now. The rain was relentless and the winds increased, so my desperation to get off the mountain dramatically increased. I kept moving and could still see the lights below now which offered promise of cover. My leg was hurting more now, I looked down to check it again and now had a bloody leg. It would have to wait until I found cover at the bottom of the mountain to be dealt with.

I finally got off the mountain at 22.45 and couldn’t find proper shelter so had to make do with being under a tree that didn’t offer the dry conditions I’d desperately hoped for. I had an anti-bac wipe which I held on the cut on my knee for a while to attempt to stop the bleeding. Eventually, it fused into the wound and seemed to stop the bleeding but it was hard to tell in the dark and wet. I put my trousers on over the top and got my bivvi bag and mat out and wanted to crawl inside and get off my feet. I was still getting wet but wasn’t cold now so thought I’d be OK here for a few hours until it got light again. I wasn’t sure what else I could do, the rain was still very heavy and I was miles from anywhere, I just had to wait this one out. Once light I hoped the rain would stop and I could assess the wound better and figure out more of a plan.

The ensuing night was probably the most uncomfortable of my life, I lay getting rained on, bivvy bag filling with water from the top and hoping my knee wasn’t filling my trousers with blood. The rain persisted. The early hours finally rolled around and I crawled out of my bag, completely soaked through and I smelt fairly awful. My knee hadn’t gotten any worse and seemed OK and my leg was working, albeit swollen and sore. It was now just about light I could look for better cover and reassess. I got on my bike and realised the crash had also knocked out rear derailleur, so my bike was making all sorts of noises as I changed gear. My knee also made some noise and was painful pedaling to start with, I could feel the wound opening as my leg spun the pedals, but everything was working OK.

In the one direction, I had the option of Honister Pass road ascent, which I really didn’t fancy, but it would take me north towards Keswick. I knew the weather would be much worse up at the top, so I went the other way and rolled into the small village of Buttermere 20 minutes or so later, where I found a public toilet that I could gather myself in. From here, once refreshed, I made the decision to stick to the road over to Keswick to find a shop to get supplies and cleaned up properly. The wipe was still stuck in the wound and flapped around in the wind, but I didn’t want the wound to start to bleed again so I left it alone.

It was a bank holiday Friday so my choices were limited. I had to push on from Keswick to Penrith for a train back to the start point and my tent in Staveley. At the train station, the list of services on the board overhead read cancelled most of the way down but I was hopeful for the 15.30 train. This gave me around four hours to get sorted in A&E, where they cleaned me up and temporarily dressed the cut. I returned to the train station and managed to get a train back to Staveley and breathed a huge sigh of relief. I showered, ate and got in my tent for a big sleep. The following morning I went to Kendal A&E where I was X-rayed, got a tetanus jab, my wound was dressed properly and I was sent off with antibiotics. Then I just had the long drive back to London to heal up and get my bike fixed.

Additional thoughts

After getting home and sorted, the initial frustration of this ride not ending as I’d have liked took some time to wear off. Soon after the ride, I read the quote “sometimes you win, sometimes you learn” and I could relate to this in my current mood. I’ll be back for more mountain biking in the Lakes, but likely first for routes that are less committing, mentally and physically. This is a comprehensive and humbling route, you think you’re making good progress and then it takes three hours to cover two kilometers. There were multiple points where I was left wondering if there actually was a trail - in sections of open bog, dense shrubbery and rock fields.

There’s real variety in this route which I enjoyed, and all the elements are difficult in their own right. The climbs are relentless, the terrain is continually changing and descents are harsh, requiring confidence and stamina for many hours. On the upside, civilisation, pubs and small shops do come along frequently, so it’s not necessary to carry too much food or water.

It could be worth carrying lightweight knee pads for the big descents, to prevent issues such as what happened to me. I think I’ll also now more seriously consider looking at a SPOT Tracker or a Garmin InReach for emergency communication when on solo missions like this in places with no phone signal or where help is a long way off. This was a good reminder for me - when solo and in a remote place, be extra cautious, take it easy and don’t get ahead of myself. This could have been much worse for me!

Whilst I didn’t finish the loop, I did get an 18 or so hour ride in, which I was pleased with. I did take my time - I took 178 photos during the day! The photos give a good idea of what the wide variation of trails are like and the scenery in the Lakes. It was hard not to keep stopping as the scenery was worth a proper look. I have unfinished business here, though, so at some point, I’ll return and complete the second half or redo the whole loop. If you’re heading up to the Lakes for this route, most definitely wear footwear for walking, take spare brake pads, and allow a lot of time.

Further info

See more at: selfsupporteduk.net/lakeland200.

Useful links: lakedistrict.gov.uk, lakesmtb.co.uk, bikepacking.com’s Lakeland 200 route guide, Huw Oliver’s ride report, Ian Barrington’s ride report, Riders Resilience article.

Short films: Josh Ibbett’s Lakeland 200 ride, Lakeland 200 Project, Racing a 210km Solo MTB Ride in 1 Day | Lakeland 200 FKT.

Related reading:
- Big Rides, Great Britain & Ireland, Kathy Rogers & Marcus Stiltz
- Mountain Biking Adventures: Multi-day routes in northern Britain, Tony Wragg & Hugh Stewart
- Bikepacking: Mountain Bike Camping Adventures on the Wild Trails of Britain, Laurence McJannet

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