Raging Waters

September 14, 2025

Raging Waters

17th August-20th August 2025

Day 1.

Oh what a frustration this location is. The two of the UK's greatest waterfalls (of which there are not many, if I'm honest!), located on a rural road, away from any reasonable train station, and a nightmare to get to by bicycle! But, alas, my dreams came true one weekend in late August 2025, when I was able to pay Teesdale a visit.

The visit took place on a cool August evening, with golden light shining through the area. Everything was still, it was completely windless. Nothing moved. The walk down to the first cascade was brisk and quick, through a gate and down to the overlook over a cataract cascading in front of a small bridge.

Such a shame others were around to distract me from this beauty- how I would have loved to have this place in total solitude to myself! I then moved upstream, past the tourist groups, past the teenagers throwing themselves off the cliffs and diving into the tannin waters. In front of me was Low Force, a massive cascade over smooth limestone in the heart of the Pennines, the peaks of distant Cross Fell looming in the distance.

Low Force was voluminous, and the roar was audible from a long way off. So much water cascaded over it per second. and this was at low flow, this was at marked low flow during the height of summer, a hot summer, with virtually no rainfall in the part of the UK I had arrived from. I cannot imagine what this place is like in flood. I truly cannot comprehend.

Satisfied with my interrogation of the wild, I moved off upstream and soon arrived at what I had come all this way to see. In front of me was the famous High Force- and it was spectacular, the foaming water shoved down a narrow limestone gorge and exploding with great force off the cliffs and crashing into a massive plunge pool below. The overlook was distant, I could barely see the falls, so I employed my drone to get a tidbit closer.

The waterfall was massive and loud, voluminous and strong, and a beauty to look at. And I had not paid a dime, as others on the Raby nature trail would have done- I was all alone by myself now, on the North Pennine Way leading to distant Cauldron Snout. I was all alone, so my drone bothered no-one else, enjoying the quiets and comforts of solitude. I moved towards the head of the waterfall, staying clear of the edge, and emerged at a natural overlook directly at the head of the raging flood, raging floodwater disappearing virtually beneath my feet. Once again, I had the whole beauty of the place to myself and myself alone, unlike swollen, bustling Low Force now way downstream.

How to rank High Force? Was it really the most voluminous as so many claimed? It was a monster to be sure, but in minor flood conditions, it lost its claim to fame at neighbour Aysgarth Falls in the Yorkshire Dales.

I moved upstream, spying a dipper along the way and investigating a small slide-waterfall straddling the full breadth of the river Tees. The sun was getting lower, the golden light grew more intense.

A dipper flew across the bank, streaking through the rising darkness and the golden light. I was surrounded by heather- there was not another soul in sight, not one other person to share the beauty of this place with me. How much I would have craved to share this place with someone who I considered special, but, alas, that was not to be. I was all alone in the wilderness of this place.

Bleabeck Force was located off the river Tees, falling from a ravine and its waters flowing into the widening river. The beautiful cascade was wreathed with moss, and it shone with golden light.

The beauty of this place was astounding and bizarre at once. For a moment, I thought it must surpass even High Force in sheer beauty, although was not a match for its sheer power.

I continued to explore, taking as many photos as I could, until the rising darkness called me home.

I left at once, seeing the dipper along the way, and using my drone for a last glimpse of High Force.

And then on the way back I paid homage to Low Force too, which was now completely empty.

And what of tomorrow, then? Tomorrow, it would be Aysgarth's turn, then Cautley Spout, and, at last, the falls of Buttermere near distant Borrowdale.

Ratings:

Low Force: 4/5

High Force: 5/5

Bleabeck Force: 4/5

Day 2.

I stopped at Aysgarth first, having seen photos of it at full flow, a raging torrent pouring down the limestone gorge. I had to see it for myself, I could not pass it up. Kisdon Force would have to wait another time- this was the real deal. I began at Upper Aysgarth Falls.

The summer of 2025 affected the river Ure so badly- reducing the mighty river to a disappointing trickle. And yet the rushing waters revealed the mossy rock, and there was still enough whitewater here to make the trip worthwhile.

I shot the famous view from the bridge to capture the cascades in earnest, and then headed off downstream, passing crowds of people along the way. Alas, my solitude at High Force yesterday would not be repeated so graciously here. And after I short walk, I came face-to-face with Middle Force.

Middle Aysgarth Force was running well but weakly and yet still made quite the noise. This was the cascade so featured when the river Ure is swollen with running orange water. And now, only moss and white. This must be a sight to experience for real when the whole cliff turns into a swarm of orange- I must come back one day. I must! Whenever there has been a real rain! And then there was the Lower cascade left. I was stunned as I descended.

The Upper cascades were running well but weakly, and the middle cascade too. But the low flow exposed the rock at the lower falls, and revealed beautiful slabs of rock. There was not much water, but the shapes of the cascades looked barely natural- so perfect, so well-shaped by years of nature and running water. This was the cascade I was not disappointed by in the slightest.

I took many photos here. I would have lost myself had there been more water, but this was already one of my favourites of the whole trip, and the favourite so far. And this is the only one so far which I wholly intended to revisit, someday when there was more water in the river.

And after all this time exploring, I sped off towards the west, towards allegedly the highest waterfall in England. Towards Cautley Spout.

Cautley Spout was visible from afar, but its true height was no really well visible from the valley, and up close it became a spectacular series of cascades so well hidden in a lush ravine.

I scrambled up to the largest of the group, admiring the flow as it leapt clear off the cliff and crashed upon the rocks below.

I scrambled out and explored upstream, taking photo after photo.

I climbed higher and higher, stopping for views and photos along the way. How tall was the whole thing for real?! It just went on and on and on!

Until I could climb no more, and the falls became a steady horizontal stream.

Cautley Spout is indeed a tallest wonder to behold- for 198 meters its waters tumble down from the Calf down to the valley below. The total height eclipses anything I had seen in the UK to date: Pistyll y Llyn, anything.

I kept looking back as I climbed down the mountain, and as I sped off I thought- was this truly taller than some Lakeland falls? Comb Beck? Sour Milk Gill? I sped further west, and soon set off to explore those wonders too. In front of me was what I believed to be the tallest waterfall in the UK. Docile at first glance.

And yet spectacular from a distance.

Sour Milk Gill at Buttermere is a hidden gem, and unknown beauty. Issuing from little Bleaberry Tarn nestled in its hanging valley, the beck tumbled over 300 meters down to Buttermere. This waterfall surpasses anything I'd ever seen to date. Cautley Spout was nothing to it, even Eas a Chul Aluinn cannot compete! But it is a dangerous cascade to climb, and I stayed well clear, instead beginning the aardous ascent to Bleaberry Tarn, and not revisiting the falls until it was safe to do so.

Bleaberry Tarn was peaceful and tranquil despite a quiet group of campers- what a place they'd chosen! And the sun was setting, and the golden light played wonders with the tiny tarn.

I headed all the way back down, pausing to admire the mesmerising view along the way.

Once back down and fully out of breath, I sped further down along the shores of Buttermere, admiring the wonderful sunset as I approached another famous cascade, the waterfalls of Comb Beck at Buttermere.

Comb Beck I once wanted to see foremost among all other waterfalls of the UK- and truly it looked spectacular from afar, but up close, not so much.

It was gentle and docile, with azure blue water, and could be climbed in far greater safety than its notorious cousin nearby. And, once again, I had the whole waterfall all to myself- there was no other person anywhere in sight except some campers in a distant wood of larch!

I then turned back, and admired the Milky Way under the starry skies. I tried to take a photo, and yes I failed, but the memory is now seared into my mind for ever.

Ratings:

Aysgarth Falls: 5/5

Cautley Spout: 4/5

Comb Beck: 4/5

Day 3.

Loweswater was a real beauty, as quiet and tranquil as Butteremere. There were a few people dotted here and there, but at whole moments, it was just me. Once again, I had most of the hike to my greedy self, sharing it with no other person.

I entered Holme Wood, and met a few hikers as I walked along the lake, then I turned inwards and began to climb the hills, and very rapidly the people thinned out, and I was all by myself again. And in front of me was the most beautiful waterfall I have ever seen.

Holme Force in all its glory. And not just a force- a slide! And the lush moss glistened in the sun, as if taken straight out of a fairy tale. The forest was silent, and I had the entire beautiful location to myself. And above it was another slide I gleefully admired and explored, perhaps even prettier than the one below.

And above all that was another cascade in the lush mossy kingdom, the entire beck squeezed into a tiny crevice and ejected with such force the water swept a narrow, graceful arc through the air as it crashed back down among the glistening rocks. I climbed further, hungering for more, and that is when I saw what was above.

Finally, it dawned on me what ancient treasure I had entered. Everything was green- trunks and trees encrusted with a layer of moss and ferns, plants growing on plants, lichens everywhere, temperate and decidous on one side, native and resplendent, and invasive conifer on the other side of the beck, although even that was beautiful. I had entered an ancient temperate rainforest!

The view in front of me was breathtaking, the air alive with most and fragrant to the smell, it was as if I was not in the UK, a place of industry and farmers, but in the Great North American temperate rainforest, where Douglas first vaulted a hundred meters into the air, where the air smelled of rain and clear wind and ancient woodland, where Beau and Edythe flitted carefree among the trees, a ravine in which Twilight seemed to come to life.

I then headed back down, my head bewitched by ethereal beauty located so far uphill in such dense forest it was as if I was not meant to see. But, just before I left, I stopped once again at the lowermost cascade, and said goodbye- who knows when I will return again. Perhaps I will not be so alone then! Perhaps I will then have someone to share the beauty of the place with.

I then stopped over at Stanley Gill. And I was...disappointed.

The place was crowded with people. The cascades were wonderful, but the way to the prettiest of them was closed and blocked due to a rockfall! Oh what bad luck had struck me!

The ravine downstream was pretty, but not electrifying in any way like Holme Force was- it was my least favourite cascade, because it promised way too much and gave so little in return, and I was forced to share the place with so many others, too. My favourite was a mossy cascade with barely any water on it. I came in with hope, and left a little disappointed. And, as the day drew to a close, I only had time for a brief visit to Foulshaw Moss, with the ospreys still in residence, and beautiful Silverdale beach. Once again, in total solitude.

Ratings:

Holme Force: 5+/5

Stanley Gill: 3/5

Day 4.

Ingleton Glen: 5+/5

Ingleborough Cave: 4-/5

Ingleton Glen's admission price was pricey, but it was so highly rated- I absolutely had to see this! I had indeed confirmed online that the woods immediately Holme Force were a temperate rainforest in every sense, and it was listed online as such. Not the whole woodland- just the small strip of wood lining Holme Force on either side. And, as I entered Ingleton Waterfalls Trail, I realised I had just walked into another resplendent rainforest, and again it was listed as such, but almost on the edge of its UK range!

The cascades were stunning, and so full of water! All surrounded by the lush greenery of another temperate rainforest, not as resplendent as my little piece of Twilight at Holme Force, nowhere close at all. But still, a pretty rainforest! At Ingleton I passed the famous money tree, its bark glinting with coins hammered into it by countless visitors. It looked strange, even otherworldly — a tree turned into a sculpture of metal and time.

There were so many people all around here, but even this, not this once, not at all, did not detract from the beauty of the place, the mighty cascades and the tranquil views.

I clambered on, and began descending down into the second gorge, following the waterfall trail back to Ingleton. And as I did, I let out an audible gasp. I had not just re-entered a temperate rainforest again. I had entered a perfect, pristine Atlantic oakwood!

Oh what a view befell me- even with the swarms of crowds around, this was one of my favourites to date, surpassing the mighty splendour of High Force, the splendid beauty of Aysgarth, and only truly surpassed in turn by the perfect, otherworldly Holme Force at distant Loweswater.

I descended, taking photo after photo, but the walk soon ended, and I was off towards my final destination. And what a destination it was! A perfect way to end the day, and my whole trip! Ingleborough Cave, its waters seeping in from distant Gaping Gill, which I will be sure to visit someday soon.