A personal journal recording and reflecting on my walks around the world.
The cloud is hanging low in the valleys as I leave the campsite. It is one of those still, silent Lakeland mornings where even the sheep are silenced by the muffling effect of the mist. Driving past Thirlmere, the water resembles a sheet of glass, the evergreens on the hillside reflecting perfectly in the Mill Pond flatness of the reservoir.
As I leave Side Farm campsite I can see the three hills of my intended days walk perfectly framed by a dry stone wall and some trees across the bottom reaches of Ullswater. It’s the perfect photo and I am drawn to the multiple shades of green that make up the fellside contrasting nicely with the blue sky above and the greenish blue of the lake below. Today’s walk takes in Arnison Crag, Birks and St Sunday Crag before returning to Patterdale via Grisedale.
Continue reading “St Sunday Crag via Arnison Crag and Birks”
I last walked up Gowbarrow Fell in the summer of 1992. We were stopping in a holiday cottage in Matterdale and I took a walk up in the late afternoon with my faithful border collie, Hemp. That evening, Mrs E and I watched Linford Christie win gold in the 100m final at the Barcelona Olympics. After my most recent walk up this fell I returned to the campervan to hear that Marcel Jacobs had just won Gold in the 100m final at the Tokyo Olympics. In an even more pleasing act of synchronicity, when I checked the date of Christie’s win, you’ve guessed, it was the very same day, 1st August. I’m looking forward to walking up Gowbarrow Fell on the 1st August 2050 to continue the pattern.
It’s a bright, sunny morning and the birds are singing as I’m dropped off at the old coach road at Wanthwaite bridge, the start point of today’s walk. The high pressure weather system that has brought unseasonable Mediterranean heat to our shores continues to linger over the country into a second week and even though it’s early the temperature is already in the mid 20c’s . As soon as I start walking I realise that my poles, instead of being strapped to my rucksack are sitting in the back of the camper. It looks like today is going to be powered by legs only.
It’s early but the summer sun has already lifted above the hills as I pull into a little lay by just outside Bethesda. All is quiet, only the birds singing their morning chorus and the occasional bleating of newly born lambs in the fields break the silence of the still morning air. As I sort my kit out, the lack of any breeze attracts a million bugs who decide I would make a nice breakfast so I am glad when I can lock the car and start moving. The day ahead looks promising, the sky is blue, no rain is forecast and the tops are clear and inviting.
It’s a clear fresh Autumn morning as I pull into the top car park at the end of the Aber falls road. There is only one other car parked up and it looks like it has been there all night. The Sun has only just risen over the horizon and it takes the early chill away as I pull on my boots and sort out my rucksack. The air is still and nothing is moving. All that can be heard is the sound of bleating sheep on the hillside.
Continue reading “A walk up Foel Fras and Carnedd Gwenllian”
I arrive early at the National Trust car park just South of Dockray and am spoilt for choice as it is completely empty. Not liking choice, I choose two spots before finally settling on a third. It’s a cold, crisp dry January morning with the promise of a bit of sun later. The road into Dockray is followed for a short while until the footpath, next to a little art studio is joined.
My first visit to the Lake District was in 1982 and from that day on, whenever I visit I never cease to be captivated by the beauty of its Mountains Lakes and Valleys. Whether driving along the A66 to Keswick and seeing Blencathra stretching up into the sky ahead of me or getting that first glimpse of the Langdales from the A591 heading to Grasmere, travelling into Lakeland always lifts my spirits and restores my soul.
Continue reading “My Journey Through the Wainwright’s, One Book at a Time.”
Day 14 Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay 19 Miles
Day fourteen, the last day, starts with a wholesome farmhouse breakfast after a good nights sleep. Over breakfast we chat to the farmer about the weather and we all agree that it has been rather wet for the time of year. It’s a dairy farm and the farmer tells us that ‘even the cows are miserable’. This makes me wonder how you can tell a miserable looking cow from a normal looking cow but I guess I’m not with these cows every day for months and years. Continue reading “Coast to Coast Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay”
Day 13 Clay Bank Top to Glaisdale 18 Miles
The end of the walk, which for a couple of weeks has seemed so distant is now suddenly within touching distance and only two days walking away. They are long days though, seventeen to nineteen miles a piece depending on which book you read (I did this walk prior to possessing my very own GPS which no doubt would have given yet a different number!) We are dropped off at Clay Bank Top just after 9am and, like yesterday the day starts with an uphill leg and lung warmer, a steady six hundred feet of ascent from the road up onto Urra Moor.
Continue reading “Coast to Coast Clay Bank Top to Glaisedale”