Restoring Hardknott Forest

While this is a story in the here and now, it is one that has a distinct history. How far that history stretches back depends on your perspective. Six years, twenty five years, seventy years, 1000 years, maybe longer than 3000 years. At its heart it's a story about people and our relationship with the land: our reliance on the countryside to provide us with resources and food and the impact that has. Whether intentionally or by a simple consequence of our pursuits, we shape and mold and change the world around us. When it comes to farming, we are used to hearing a narrative about the negative impact that it has had on our wider environment. The reality is often more nuanced, though, and no more so than in Dunnerdale, the Lake District. 

There has been some form of livestock rearing, including sheep, in the Lake District since neolithic times, when trees were first felled in the valleys to create clearings for grazing. The instantly recognisable Herdwick breed didn’t arrive until the 10th century, crossing the North Sea with Norse settlers. Hardier breeds were able to better cope with harsh conditions found on the fells and grazed further up the hillsides. The way the Lake District looks today, with clear views stretching out above any remaining low treeline is in no small part down to the generations and generations of sheep farming. 

This distinctive landscape – carved by ice ages and water, structured by humans apportioning it with drystone walls, sheep nibbled and bald – is unique and historically important enough to have been given UNESCO World Heritage Site status. Just as importantly, it continues to provide a way of life for farmers and communities today. It’s easy for the walker, climber or bike rider to treat the mountains, crags and trails as a playground; somewhere to be visited for leisure. The reality of carving out a living there is often forgotten. 

Farming might be hard, but Paddy Deady puts it succinctly. “I live in paradise”. The National Trust tenant farmer isn’t originally from the valley, but the depth of his lived knowledge now runs deep. He brings me up to speed with the modern day realities that are not immediately visible to the casual eye.

“There was a large growth in sheep numbers after the second world war. The government introduced subsidies per each breeding ewe, at a time when food supply and food security were pressing matters. It led to unprecedented pressure on upland resources.”

In 1955, there were approximately a million sheep in the Lake District. By 1985 those subsidies and the subsequent Common Agricultural Policy meant that figure was closer to two million, and it has stayed around that figure since. The subsequent overgrazing has led to claims of the Lake District being “sheep-wrecked”. There has been a profound and very real decline in upland bird species and natural heathland being replaced by monoculture grassland. The very worst of the overgrazing may by-and-large be a thing of the past, but its consequences continue and the landscape stands little to no chance of recovery without change. 

Paddy’s farm sits at the far end of the Duddon Valley. “It’s a steep, narrow valley, with high, craggy edges. We don’t have a lake. There’s no train access. It’s quiet. There’s lots of rock. Lots of trees. Lots of green. If you like that.” 

Written down, his words don’t quite convey his clear love for paradise. Paddy, though, cares deeply about where he lives. He recognises his economic dependency on it. He recognises the conflict between modern farming and the environmental consequences. He knows that every vista from Troutal Farm has, in some way, been shaped by humans. And he has taken an active lead in finding a way to protect and redevelop both the landscape and the traditional way of life. 

There is often a perception of “them and us” when it comes to those who love the outdoors for recreation and those who earn a living from the land. As we’ve just discussed, there is no arguing with the fact that farming can and does have a negative impact on natural, wild places the world over. Equally, as we are about to learn, commercial motivations can run deep, especially when – as is the case for many Lakeland hill farmers – the question is less about scales of profit, but more about survival from one year to the next.

The reality though is more nuanced. It always is. After the bulk of the interview is done and Paddy and I are signing off, I mention the copy of Extreme Rock (the original edition… now highly prized by those in the know), sitting on the bookshelf behind him.

“I climb, I cycle. I also spend too much time on this farm. You know there’s never ending work, so you tend to get a free Sunday afternoon and end up repairing a wall gap or whatever it is. My daughter, Lola is more likely to be out climbing than me now.”

We are all them and us. We may not be the farmers, but many of us eat the result of their work. We may be outdoor lovers, but we drive to the crag or the trail head. My lasting impression when talking to Paddy is one of stewardship of and love for his home. A sense that he is driven to want to do the right thing, not just because it will benefit him, but because it is the right thing to do now and for future generations.

“The Upper Duddon Landscape Recovery (UDLR) project has quite a long history really. It first came about when some members from Leeds University Climbing Club were visiting a climbing hut that was an old National Trust farm back in 2001. They noticed that the Forestry Commission [now called Forestry England] were starting to extract timber from Hardknott Forest. It was originally planted seventy years ago, the trees were reaching maturity. Professor Dominic Spracklen happened to be one of those climbers and he was intrigued to know what the Forestry Commission had planned for the land next. It was never a particularly commercially viable forest, so they didn’t really know. A plan was hatched to restore the entire plantation into native habitats of oak and birch woodland, bogs and open ground, linking Hardknott Forest with existing woodlands in the Duddon Valley. The Restoring Hardknott Forest Project began in 2004.”

Paddy’s involvement is more recent, but no less important. He moved to his farm in the Upper Duddon Valley in 2019. His background isn’t just in farming, but he’s had connections to the Lake District since travelling to work on a farm in Eskdale when he was 17. There is sometimes a picture painted of modern farming as large-scale agri-business. While that may be the case elsewhere, hill farming remains a marginal way to make a living. Paddy split his time, working as builder and tending to his sheep flock. Speaking to him, it doesn’t take long to realise that he’s a man who likes to get things done. And when it was announced that the Department for the Environment, Farming and Rural Affairs (Defra) were setting up the Landscape Recovery Scheme, he knew what he needed to do. 

“The Landscape Recovery Scheme was set up by Defra to encourage landowners and farmers to make large-scale and genuinely impactful changes to their land and their practices in a way that will improve the environment or climate. Bids for funding had to be made; demonstrating robust, measurable and accountable positive outcomes. The plan was to broaden the Restoring Hardknott Forest Project into a holistic approach across the whole valley, but it also represented an opportunity to create a more sustainable future for farming in the Duddon Valley. There would be reduced grazing stock and land given up to the creation of natural habitats, but farmers would be paid for their work and much-needed employment created.”

It’s no surprise that the Leeds University team, working with Paddy and others, won the bid (I wouldn’t be writing this piece if they didn’t), but as so often is the case, the path to success wasn’t always easy. Politics and negotiations and bid writing don’t necessarily make the most interesting stories, but Paddy’s challenge came in the form of trying to convince and unite the other farmers in the Duddon. It required a community focus, community delivery and community support. It helped that Paddy was a farmer himself. He understood the challenges, he was living them too. 

“The Upper Duddon is mostly made up of National Trust tenant farmers, with a couple of privately owned farms too. I’ll be honest, as a bunch of people, farmers can be a bit grumpy, a bit cynical and defensive, and ultimately are often financially motivated. It’s not always easy to convince them that change will be for the best. Most have lived through ill-thought out Defra schemes. Their margins are tight. But eventually we won them over. They saw the potential benefits and most bought in because they knew change was needed to secure the long-term viability of their livelihoods. Some others were probably more immediately motivated by the financial benefits that the scheme brought them then and there, but so be it.”

I picture fraught meetings in community halls. Objections and concerns raised and placated, consensus and arguments, but gradually an agreement was made and a detailed bid submitted to Defra. Paddy describes a key point when he realised that they were making progress: “The farmers started using the same language that we were.”

The UDLR project was eventually signed off in 2025, after two years of work. It promises up to twenty years of funding to support fell farmers, nature and the local community.

The project’s aims are ambitious and wide-sweeping. When the Restoring Hardknott Forest Project first started, the team expected to have to plant native trees. They have been surprised to discover that as they clear and remove any remaining non-native conifers, the native woodland is self-regenerating. Trees are natural seeding and growing where there has been no native woodland in centuries. 

Each farm has its own specific goals and targets, but there are general themes; reduced grazing intensity, restoring species rich scrub and grasslands, restoring upland plant communities, restoring peatlands and blanket bog, restoring riverbanks and other riparian zones. There’s restoration of hedgerows and removing fertiliser use, creation of woodland pastures. There’s beautifully descriptive ‘rewiggling’ of an upland stream that had been culverted, and as well as reducing grazing in general, moving it away from specific areas. The signing off of the project was just the start. Now comes two decades of hard work and as time goes on, measurement of the benefits. 

 And, of course, the project must be sustainable at a human level. Farms must be at least as profitable as they were before. The reality is most have been on the edge of viability for years. Many farmers, including Paddy in the past, supplement their incomes with other work. The wider scheme is employing fourteen people; a valuable source of employment outside the seasonality of tourism. Farmers get paid for the work that they put into land restoration. With strong stewardship there should be no losers; environmental nor economically.

Decades, centuries of human impact will not be reversed overnight. Trees don’t reach maturity immediately. Fauna doesn’t instantly return. But what might sitting outside Paddy’s farm feel like in two decades time? What will feel tangibly different?

“You know, already in this valley, we're really lucky. It's a beautiful little place. But it's when you do a deep dive into those individual habitats and that you’ll see the differences. 

“I’m expecting that you’ll notice a difference in the noise first of all. Insects buzzing in the summer and the subsequent birdlife. And that will stem from the diversity of the flowers, and some of the planted trees beginning to reach a mature status. 

“Higher up the valley, I think you’ll notice more low level rough open fell and less moonscape. Standing on the top of Harter Fell and see this huge contrast between the Duddon and Eskdale to the west.”

While the full impact of the project will take even longer than a couple of decades to truly be seen, it’s amazing how quickly there are signs of change. I first speak to Paddy in mid-May. The first lambing season under the UDLR project is almost over; for Paddy that meant a 50% reduction in his stock going into lambing. He’s already seeing the benefits that is bringing. 

“The overall health of the sheep is better and that’s translating into better breeding rates. It used to be around 80% (so, just under one lamb per breeding ewe). It’s now over 100%, with more twins being born. The work that is required to look after the flock is reduced. So too is the amount of medicine that is needed.”

I catch up with Paddy later in summer and there’s more positive news. 

“For some of the fields, it’s the first time they've had no grazing for a whole spring and summer for such a long time. Normally, when sheep graze, especially at lambing time, they're desperate to get nourishment to produce that milk to grow that lamb, and they eat indiscriminately. There are these plants that grow every single year but don't get a chance to flower, so they don't get a chance to seed. What’s amazing is that you take sheep out of the equation for just a short period, and well, it's all there.

We've had it surveyed and, well, you didn't even need to invite a professional ecologist to tell you the difference. The amount of flowers and the variety of flowers that were there, were amazing. There were so many that we’ve never seen before.” 

We started this story looking at the interconnectedness of human history and how that has shaped an entire environment. We are at what could be the start of a new relationship between the people of the Duddon Valley and their home. Speaking to Paddy, you truly feel the depth of his personal connection and the enormous potential for the area.

“We live and look after this place in the winter when it doesn't stop raining or snowing for six months. It's important that people live here rather than just becoming a valley of second homes.

“Everyone has still got sheep on the fell, cattle on their intakes, and yeah, it's still a working farming valley. But, it’s farming in a far more gentle style.”

And does Paddy feel a sense of pride for what has already been achieved and what will hopefully continue to be done?

“I'm just really happy to see all these people working. I'm really happy to see this farm paying for itself. I'm really happy to have a farm where I can actually be present all the time and work on the farm rather than working away. And just being involved in something like this, going in the right direction, doing the right thing, yeah. It's ace.

“My daughters probably won’t want to go into farming, but that’s okay. I’m a tenant farmer at the end of the day. As long as when I’ve done my time I leave it in a better place than when I started, I think that’s important”.

In the wider context of climate change as well as global economic and political instability, one scheme isn’t necessarily the answer to creating a better world, but it shows that we aren’t necessarily on a one way street; we can positively change the world around us. Paddy, in his own, quiet way is demonstrating that, in a tucked away valley with a human history that stretches back millennia. Its future feels like it is in safe hands.

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The environmental work at Troutal Farm sits at the heart of a much larger landscape-scale restoration project involving both Duddon Valley and Miterdale. Run by the University of Leeds, this work has been financially supported by EOCA and its members, including Pertex, since 2019.

EOCA – the European Outdoor Conservation Association – enables its members from across the outdoor sector to work together to create a positive impact on nature, biodiversity and wild places.