Four nights in Lakeland

Looking due north from my canoe on Windermere

Thursday: 23:04. I pull into the small triangular car park at Ambleside Pier, next to the Youth Hostel. It’s free but only at this hour can I be sure of a space. Which is one reason I won’t be moving the van till Monday. Between times I’ll walk, canoe or bus it.

In minutes I have blinds secured with suction disks to van windows, Exped mattress inflated, teeth seen to and clothes off. I’m asleep in minutes.

Friday is hot and sunny. With sun hat, factor 50, water, stove, coffee and snacks, I take to the water.

At this quaint quay on Windermere’s quiet west bank I overnighted on my very first multi day canoe trip

Looking due north: Scandale Fell at centre horizon, Rydal Fell at left horizon, Loughrigg Fell mid distance

Leftmost building: Ambleside Youth Hostel. Left of that and off camera: Ambleside Pier

Next day, Saturday, acting on a mix of reader’s tip – previous post – and providence …

… I alight at Dungeon Ghyll (Inga has the correct spelling) and Middle Fell Farm …

Above and below, Middle Fell Farm

… and from Middle Fell Farm take the northwest path, on the valley side to the right, up into the Langdales.

Looking left and south at Crinkle Crags

Dry stone wall pointing artistically west at Bow Fell, with Scafell Pike on the left horizon

Gimmer Crag, to my right and north

Bow Fell ahead, west. Right, northwest: Hanging Knotts, Esk Pike, Allen Crags form a corrie (armchair) cradling an unseen Angle Tarn

Looking southwest over Mickleden, The Band and Green Tongue

Above and below, Stickle Pike

In top right quadrant a path follows Rossett Gill up to Angle Tarn (again unseen)

I briefly entertain carrying on to Angle Tarn. I have water but lack wittles. A few raisins, or slab of Kendal Mint Cake, would make all the difference. My blood sugar drops suddenly these days. Pressing on would be a very bad idea, especially alone with no one knowing my whereabouts.

I retrace steps to Middle Fell Farm and adjacent Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel for aforesaid pie and pint at the Climbers Bar, brought out to where I sit, shaded by umbrella, in the courtyard.

The cask pale, Loweswater Gold, has that sharpness with grapefruit hint you get when the hop balance is spot on. (A dozen or more differently sourced hops can go into a good pale, and this is as good as it gets.) The pie, not home made but more than respectable, is ham and leek with chips and gravy. The greens – sweetheart cabbage, curly kale, mange-tout and sugar snap peas arranged with unpretentious artistry – are to my surprise cooked to perfection. Joints far posher routinely fall at this hurdle.

I ask the lad collecting glasses to convey my appreciation to the chef.

Plate cleared and glass drained, I set off in baking heat to follow Great Langdale Beck down to Skelwith Bridge by way of Chapel Stile and Elterwater. (In early March 2022, seven days after Russia went into Ukraine, I’d walked in the rain from Elterwater to Skelwith, taking pictures as I went.)

North and to my left, Raw Pike

The vegetation grows lusher as I drop down the valley …

… though the tributary becks are in a pitiful state after the longest drought in living memory.

It began in early March. Even then, so early in the year, there were days I had to wait till evening for it to be cool enough to walk the woofer.

North and to my left, Lang How

Above and below: north and to my left, Dow Bank

Great Langdale Beck, a few yards upstream of the bridge at Elterwater …

… and a few yards downstream of the same

Gridlock at Elterwater village

This puts me in mind of the illustrations in Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast trilogy

Even in a drought, the waterfalls a few hundred yards upstream of Skelwith Bridge impress. You wouldn’t want to lose your footing on the rocks and rusted iron walkways at the viewing points. In March 2022, both were treacherous slippy, while even in today’s very different conditions I’m moving with camera in one hand, caution in the other.

Another one for my highly acclaimed rusted barbed wire at a bus stop series

Sunday I take the 07:40 to Keswick, and from there the 09:10 down Borrowdale Valley, alighting at Grange. I’d thought a northbound hike to Keswick along Cat Bells, last walked in the reverse direction amid snow and ice in January this year. But on the tops, shade there ain’t. In this heat keeping to the valley floor, or just up from it, with conifer cool and option of Derwentwater dip, is the more enticing prospect.

Derwentwater and Skiddaw

Looking west and up at Cat Bells

While conifer dominates the interior, the lake shores are oak fringed

Monday morning the weather is cooler as I take one last shot across England’s biggest lake …

… brew coffee, and point the van south for Kendal, Lancaster and Glasson Dock.

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