The Struggle Cycling Guide

Discover The Struggle Ambleside cycling route, the shortest and steepest path up to Kirkstone Pass.

Direction: South to North: Ambleside to Kirkstone Pass​

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Overview

There are three ways up to Kirkstone Pass, but The Struggle is widely feared as the hardest of them all: and the name isn't a marketing gimmick, it's just accurate. Leaving the bustling town of Ambleside behind, this climb acts as a vertical gateway into the high fells, instantly forcing riders into a claustrophobic, leg-burning battle against gravity. It is a relatively short ascent by European mountain standards, but its sheer structural brutality lies in the pacing. It combines a punishingly steep launch right out of the urban boundary with long, exposed, wind-swept ramps that relentlessly wear down a cyclist's endurance before offering an explosive grand finale at the summit.

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The Details

• Distance: 4.6km

• Elevation gain: 382m

• Average gradient: 8.4%

• Maximum gradient: 20% 

• At the top: Kirkstone Pass Inn (dating from 1496).

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History & Character

Long before cyclists took an interest in the climb, this pass was an ancient, working lifeline carved through the fells. The pass takes its name from the Kirkstone, a massive, distinctive boulder sitting a few hundred yards from the summit on the northern Patterdale side. Arriving Viking settlers thought the silhouette of the stone resembled a church steeple and named it so, with “Kirk” being the Old Norse word for church, and the name has defined the ridge ever since. Historically, the steep lane winding out of Ambleside served as a rugged drovers' road. For centuries, Cumbrian farming families would endure the grueling climb to herd vast numbers of cattle and sheep over the high pass to reach the valley markets below, braving the elements without any modern shelter.

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The high fells surrounding the pass were also defined by a gritty industrial trade. Just below the summit on the Ambleside side sits Pets Quarry, an ancient workings where generations of miners blasted the mountain to extract premium green and blue-black Kirkstone slate. Further down the northern slopes, quarrymen at Caudale Moor manually hauled split slate down the mountainside on dangerous "trail barrows" (two-handled wooden sledges) that required immense skill to prevent the heavy stone from running away with the worker down the 1-in-4 slopes.

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At the very peak of the pass stands the iconic Kirkstone Pass Inn. Having stood since 1496, it is officially the highest inhabited building in the Lake District and the third highest pub in England. Parts of its ancient foundations are thought to have deep monastic links, serving as an absolute sanctuary for medieval travellers, drovers, and 19th-century coaching inn networks braving the brutal mountain winter elements. Given its isolated, windswept nature, the inn is steeped in local folklore and is widely reputed to be one of the most haunted buildings in England. Local legend tells of Ruth Bayley, a young mother who tragically perished in a ferocious mountain snowstorm while traversing the pass; her benevolent spirit is said to still linger near the comforting, white-washed stone walls she was desperately trying to reach.

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It's a climb with a bit of modern cycling history attached, too. When the Tour of Britain came through in 2016, Sir Bradley Wiggins famously got off his bike and ran up the steepest section of The Struggle: a direct, cheeky nod to Chris Froome's infamous run up Mont Ventoux a few years earlier. It's the kind of story that sums the climb up fairly well: it breaks people, even the very best in the world.

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What to Expect

The Struggle begins with zero warning. Turning onto Kirkstone Road right from the mini-roundabout at the edge of Ambleside town centre, you are instantly hit with an unrelenting wall. The road pitches up violently to 14–16%, squeezing tightly through a claustrophobic channel of slate buildings and dry-stone walls. This opening mile is a shock to the system that requires you to immediately ditch your big ring and fight to clear the urban boundary.

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Once you clear the houses, the climb transitions into its second act: the relief section. The terrain opens out into rugged farmland with spectacular, expansive views back down over Windermere and the fells beyond. Here, the gradient noticeably eases off, rolling through gentle false flats and even a small, welcome dip where you can actually carry momentum and drop your heart rate back into safety. But do not let the recovery fool you: it is just a setup for the finale - the finale which you can see for minutes before you reach it.

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As you approach the top, the road leaves the fields behind and rears up into a brutal, exposed amphitheater. The final 300 metres are the sting in the tail: a series of agonising, stacked switchbacks that lock in at a savage 20% to 24%. This is where the climb truly earns its name, leaving riders out of the saddle and desperately hunting for a gear that doesn't exist but hang on in there, you're within touching distance of the summit pub.

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Guide's Experience

I love the opening stretch of The Struggle. Weaving through the houses straight out of Ambleside is a fantastic feeling because your legs are still completely fresh, and you've got the energy to attack it. The only real annoyance here is the traffic: you'll constantly hear cars crawling up behind you, drivers desperately struggling to keep their clutches under control as they try to get past you on the narrow lane.​

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Once you clear the houses, you hit the middle act of the climb. It is undeniably beautiful up here, but it holds a feature I dislike: going downhill on an uphill climb. There is a distinct dip in the middle, and all I can ever think about when riding through it is how much that brief downhill section skews the data. It tricks the computers, making the average gradient on the route profile look artificially easier than the climb actually feels in reality. And as nice as that physical rest in the middle section is, it comes with a heavy psychological tax. Because the landscape is so open, you are forced to stare at the steep ending the entire time you are spinning through the easy bit. From over a mile away, you can visually see the brutal percentage of that final wall, watching cars drop gears and laboriously push their way up the 20–24% ramps in the distance.​

 

When that final wall eventually arrives under your wheels, the playing is over. You’ve got to dig in, and you’ve got to dig hard. Your cadence will drop, and your muscles will scream, but there is only one mental trick left to employ at that point: lock your eyes on the horizon, keep the cranks turning, and just think about the pints waiting for you at the top of the pub as you give one last, desperate push to the summit.

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This climb features in our Fred Whitton Epic & Classic tours.