Trails, sunshine, and my shadow hiking up Skiddaw.

Walking Skiddaw at Sunset:

A Solitary Hike Through the Silence of the Northern Fells

Discover one of the Lake District’s quietest and most soulful mountains — with winding trails, hidden legends, and the kind of silence that doesn't isolate but returns you to yourself.

by Veer Shah | Finding Solace in the Lake District

In the North: Where Solitude Meets the Sky

Skiddaw is one of the Lake District’s highest peaks, but it also may be the quietest. Rising gently above the northern town of Keswick, Skiddaw offers a rare stillness into space and slowness.

To walk Skiddaw at sunset is to step into a hush. Within yourself.

Trail Overview

Route: Latrigg —> Little Man —> Skiddaw summit —> Lonscale Fell descent
Difficulty: Moderate
Time: 4–6 hours round trip
Best for: Solo hikers, sunset walkers, quiet seekers
Start point: Gale Road car park near Latrigg / further route from Threlkeld
Tip: Pack layers — Skiddaw’s summit winds can be fierce even on warm evenings.

Pause at Keswick - market town with cafés, bookshops, and places to rest.

The Climb: Ascent via Latrigg

The path begins gently. Through farmland, soft underfoot. As Latrigg rises to your left, the curve of the trail reveals the scale ahead, with the grey spine of Skiddaw unfolding slowly.

Sheep bleat in the low fields. The sound of footsteps, birdsong, wind. Nothing else.

Climbing toward Little Skiddaw, the terrain shifts. The slope steepens, gravel underfoot. False summits come and go. Until at last, the ridge appears.

The sun casting golden light over Little Man, one of the Skiddaw range's lesser-known gems, beloved by walkers.

At the Summit: Skiddaw’s Wide Horizon

From the summit, the Lake District rolls out in every direction. Blencathra to the east, Derwentwater to the south, and to the north, the borderlands fade toward Scotland.

This isn’t a place for fanfare. It’s a place to be still.

Wind moves through everything, stripping sound and story down to the essentials. The view doesn't demand awe, it simply invites for you to sit in it quietly, like joining someone you’ve missed without needing to speak.

At sunset, Bassenthwaite Lake below reflects the sky’s turning hues - gold to pink to ash. You don’t climb Skiddaw to conquer it. You climb to return to yourself.

The Descent: Lonscale Fell into Dusk

Heading down via Lonscale Fell, the path opens wide. The sky fades to indigo. The wind settles.

You’re not just walking a descent. You’re part of a ritual older than memory: light fading, breath slowing, ground rising to meet your step.

Here, where stories linger on the wind and silence sings louder than screens, you remember: this isn’t escape. It’s arrival.

A well-worn footpath winding from Latrigg toward the towering slopes of Skiddaw—ideal for a contemplative, quiet ascent.

A Story from the Slopes: The Hermit of Skiddaw

Local legend tells of a painter who once lived on Skiddaw’s flanks - a man who left behind city life and built a wooden shelter just below the ridgeline. He painted clouds, birds, frost, and silence.

They say he didn’t speak much. That he’d walk down only when he needed oats or oil. But that his paintings captured something rare: the pause between moments. The truth most people miss.

Some say his ghost still watches the summit trails. Not to frighten, but to remind you: don’t rush. You’re already where you need to be.