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The drive to the Lake District from the wide green valley of Airedale does not take long on a Friday evening and Josie and I soon found ourselves in Ambleside and the very short trip from there to Skelwith Bridge. Finding a cottage in the dark however presents different problems, plus there seemed to be nowhere to park. Josie's offer to get out of the car and walk around the small group of cottages and outbuildings in heavily pouring rain was gratefully accepted. Umbrella clutched in her hand she re-appeared a short while later, "I have just somewhat unfortunately placed my foot in a rather large puddle" is one translation of what had happened. An expletive undeleted version can be imagined. Despite the distress the cottage and parking had been located and after a swift unpack the short walk to the Talbot, part of the Skelwith Bridge Hotel, was taken for a tasty and welcome meal, not cheap but very good value. I did manage to trap my finger in the door while going for a smoke, a new warning on packets of cigarettes maybe! At last our week in the Lake District was underway properly. The expectation from our trips may differ to many others in what we seek to gain from them – while having huge respect and admiration for those who go seeking a maximum return on Wainwright Fells topped – ours is more of a Lake District rather than Cumbrian Fells exploration. Saturday - Orienteering? What's that? Waking early from a good sleep I left Josie still sleeping soundly and had a very pleasant hour on the bank of the River Brathay. Walking upstream I had my first sight of Skelwith Force, a very powerful surge of water indeed, and up to Elterwater and back.  Tarn Hows through the trees We did struggle to find a parking space but a kind and informative National Trust Warden allowed us to squeeze in at the side of the disabled area, he told us it was unusually busy as a British Schools Orienteering event was taking place. Running and map-reading! Something stirred in my mind but just then I could not recall exactly what... Sunday - Left alone a man does... Sunday was the day for an outing straight from the cottage door through Neuama Crag, and its conurbation of wooden holiday homes, Loughrigg Tarn lay beneath us as we crested the hill. The short walk across the eastern edge took us to the path to Loughrigg Fell. A new, pitched pitch installed by the Fix the Fells team was partly constructed, and gratefully used, their work cabin strapped to hillside was not quite as inconspicuous as the path will become!  From the path up Loughrigg My knowledge of angling was soon exposed as I queried "What's that you've just reeled in?" of a fisherman. "My bait" he replied smiling. "When you are fishing for pike you need other fish for bait…… but they are dead." The lifeless bait was re-arranged and re-cast, the previously almost perfectly reflective surface of the lake disturbed as his cast dropped to the dark depths of the water. "I thought you had done some fishing Dave" asked Josie. "Obviously not that sort" was all I could muster in reply. Another short walk on the riverside and it was time for Josie's enforced return home to work until Thursday morning. We needed a few bits of shopping for the cottage, so after consulting the bus timetable a visit to Ambleside was jointly undertaken and I waved Josie a temporary goodbye. Bus stop located I waited £1 coin clutched ready for the approximate 2 mile journey, "Skelwith Bridge please" I requested cheerfully, "Two pounds fifty please" came the reply. Now I'm all for promoting public transport but that does seem a little on the expensive side. Before departing the bus I risked further damage to my already surging blood pressure "How much would a journey from Skelwith Bridge to The Old Dungeon Ghyll cost please?" I asked, my poor Yorkshire lip trembling in fear of the reply. "That would be three pounds ninety each way or a return is only six pounds fifty sir." the driver said each word slowly, I sensed that he realised that every syllable was driving like a knife into my heart, or wallet. Mentioning the bus prices later as I had called in the Talbot for an odd, that means any number that is not even, pint of their excellent Thwaites Wainwright Bitter a local remarked that I could get a week saver ticket for about ten pounds. That was helpful as I was only considering using it once! Monday - And pays for it, but not for the bus! I awoke on Monday morning resolved to spend more time Wainwright reading than imbibing, but holidays are holidays and on with the day. The weather did not look promising so I set off on the Cumbria Way down to Great Langdale getting a slow perspective of a valley I had only previously driven down. A buzzard soared lazily across the valley just down from Chapel Stile, a few attempts at photographs of it were not that successful. The delightful farms and Herdwick sheep added to the enjoyment of an easy walk, the contrasting colours of the green valley and the mossy, splendidly constructed, walls were a pleasure to the eye against the spectacular mountains around me.  Great Langdale Beck The rain eased at times on the way back but as perverse as our weather can be, virtually every time my camera reached open air the rain started again. At one point as I sheltered behind one of those substantial, mossy walls while another violent squall passed, the Stagecoach Bus drove back towards Skelwith Bridge. A few minutes of discomfort cost nothing I thought, Dick Turpin would surely have chuckled at their attempts at role reversal. As the rain eased I watched a dipper, darting and diving in Great Langdale Beck, and a little further on a pair of grey wagtails were a joy to see. Monday evening was passed quietly, waterproofs spread out to dry, their job done satisfactorily for the day, a phone call home to check on both our safety! A hearty meal eaten alone prompted me for some company so I took the walk to the Talbot resolved to just have a couple of pints - sometimes my determination amazes me. Arriving back at the cottage just an hour later with my resolve intact, no... not the bathroom cabinet variety, I decided to work a route out for Tuesday bearing in mind that the forecast was not good. After a while a plan was hatched, the door was locked and sleep was easy. Tuesday - Orienteering... the memory returns. I awoke to sound of a howling gale as forecast, so my lower level route plan of the night before it would be. Upstream from Skelwith Bridge there is a new bridge that leads to a pleasant woodland walk opening into fields, the Cumbria Way again, passing the waterfall of Colwith Force and up to High Park. Just before Stang End I took a path off to the left through a field to an area, I think called The Dubs, today a boggy, desolate, wind battered place. On a better day it looked to have the potential to be a haven for wildlife. Onwards through woods and the edge of quarries and then a very short stretch of tarmac I turned down a field toward High Tilberthwaite. A kestrel was watching from a tree nearby as I went to unlatch the gate, it sat quite still as I moved my hand from the gate latch to my camera case which had been closed against the weather. I knew what was going to happen, just as the camera came from the case the wings flapped and I watched as it sped away.  Moss Rigg Wood - well named More high wind and rain guided me back into Little Langdale and a minibus bearing the legend Humphrey Head Centre for Outdoor Education... Orienteering, that's why it had rung a bell on Saturday, or in 1967 that's what our teacher told us it was. In those days Humphrey Head was school camp and at fifteen it sounded exciting, it was! Abseiling with no safety gear, route marches of goodness knows how many miles. Being taken to an unknown place in groups of four and finding our own way back, a coach ride to somewhere I cannot recall and a race to a felltop and back. Lessons in map reading were daily and on the night of the afore mentioned orienteering we were organised into teams of four once again. Issued with a torch with strict instructions to use it sparingly, each team had two of the top map readers and two torch bearers; the damn thing was so big it was too much for one! Oh and we also had a map, a sequence of map references to visit and it was getting dark. Great fun ensued as instructions to use the torch sparingly were ignored straight away, we were fifteen remember, the sky resembled something from the searchlights in the Blitz as batteries drained into the night sky. We returned unharmed apart, from my classmate Ian whose introduction to the meaning of closely spaced contour lines was a fall which fortunately resulted only in a broken arm. Character building they called it. "Blimey I went there over forty years ago" I said to one of the instructors or teachers as they left the minibus. "Did you enjoy it?" she replied. "Brilliant as I remember" I answered as a straggle of hard hatted, variously booted young girls emerged from the bus. "What's on the agenda today then?" my final question as they lined up at the side of the road. "Just a short walk on an unmade path and then some woodland". I looked back sadly as they left, some of them utilising their pink wellies to jump in puddles. Hard hats for a walk? Wellies? Now I know I have passed the grumpy old man test! A nice enough walk from Wilson Place to Elterwater, and then a pair of swans easing their way into the air from Elterwater enriched the journey back to the cottage and a welcome cup of tea, later a phone call to Josie, supper, some reading and a good sleep. Somewhere between the last two or three items, time for another couple of Wainwrights, pints not books. Wednesday - A wonderful day with the Hileys On Wednesday Roger and Ann Hiley had generously offered to drive down from Loweswater, I awaited them by the bridge not wanting Ann to experience the puddle episode and then over a cup of tea we discussed a route. Roger's suggestion of Wetherlam via Steel Edge was accepted and we left for Tilberthwaite. As we parked I could spot the path I had followed down to High Tilberthwaite the day before. An early stream crossing as Roger stood camera poised was a little unnerving, I have the balance of a one legged stool and my sometimes preferred option of "Stuff it I need to check if my boots are still waterproof!!" was not an option in this company. Thankfully I made it across unscathed and un-photographed and we pursued our way up the valley, on the way we spotted a sheep grazing on some grass on a seemingly unreachable ledge. As we climbed higher the path disappeared and we discussed options, the grassy heights gave way to a steep though not unpleasant gully, Steel Edge evidently, trekking pole packed away hands were used for stability, and some care taken not to disturb stones to plough into anyone behind.  From Wetherlam summit The view from the top was wonderful, the Langdale Fells in particular seen from a different angle from before and a lot of the Eastern Fells clearly visible. The weather was fine but with a chill wind making gloves necessary for much of the time. We had done a classic ascent of a good fell, Ann and I in company and conversation for spells as Roger sought photographic opportunities, and each of us in turn taking shots the others did not notice. Their dogs Harry and Bethan were a delight, disappearing for a while as their more receptive noses sought out unknown, perhaps best so! scents. A sheltered spot was found for lunch and we wandered downwards, three planes on exercises distracted us on the way. A discussion was held and it was time for a short backtrack, a hint of path and Wetherlam Edge was found. As steep and rocky as the ascent, care was needed and at one point a well placed hand from Roger stopped me from a personal best splits position!! Thanks Roger. A splendid day with fine people was ended with more cups of tea and a short stroll up the Brathay to have a look at the waterfall and bridge before their drive home to Loweswater. Another evening of phone call to Josie, supper, reading and a couple of pints in the Talbot was enjoyed in no particular order and then a deep and pleasant sleep interrupted by an unnerving experience. At some point during the night a cold and lifeless arm fell on my face and I woke with some relief to find it was my own. Falling asleep in strange positions when fatigued can have its hazards! Thursday - Nature at its finestOn Thursday morning Josie arrived back safely and we discussed our plans for the day. The short drive down Great Langdale and up to Blea Tarn was decided on and off we set. A National Trust van drew into the car park just after I had purchased a ticket for the necessary time for our walk and we were putting our boots on, after emptying the machine the warden then checked the cars already parked. "Good job I have already paid" I smiled as he looked into our car. Further along the car park I saw him filling forms in, it looked like someone was heading for a hefty price for not paying for a ticket. Our car locked, rucksacks on our shoulders we headed out of the car park just as the warden was returning to his van. "Do you mind me asking how much that has cost the owner" I gestured towards the ticketless car. "Only the cost of the ticket that should have been displayed and if that is not paid within a time limit other charges can be added" the warden replied, it seems a little generous to me. We chatted to him for couple of minutes about the benefits of membership and then he bade us farewell and resumed his round. We headed across the road and round Blea Tarn to the house and the path up to Lingmoor Fell. A small amount of sunshine filtered through the clouds from time to time, and a cold wind blew us to the cairn. We admired the views all around us and made our way north west along the edge.  Almost motionless in the wind We walked on chatting together, descending quite happily until we were almost down to the fence. "Shouldn't we have gone straight across to Side Pike?" Josie asked. Anyway no harm done we continued down and took the other path further round, concentration is another thing that should be in every fellwalkers belongings, sadly lacking in mine sometimes! The short walk up accomplished we had discovered another small hill with amazing views, the one across to the Langdale Pikes especially so. A quick descent and a last wander around Blea Tarn and our walking day was done. A week in which three Wainwright Fells, many miles of River Brathay or Great Langdale Beck, beautiful mixed woodland, contrasting bridge designs, farmland, The Cumbria Way and tarmac lanes had all been walked. Some interesting wildlife had been observed, friendships renewed, childhood days revisited and thoughts provoked. Days of happy walks with Josie, solitary days in bad weather, climbing steeply with Roger and Ann and the loveable dogs, and finally again with Josie another couple of small fells with amazing views. Above all a week of getting to know just one small part of this special area a little bit better. The puddle was gone as we left on Friday morning and now so were we. David's full Webshots album for the week is at http://good-times.webshots.com/album/562653745aCRBKW where if you are a Webshots user, you can write comments and a leave a Guestbook entry too. |
