Two days ago, I didn’t want to remove my camera from its
case, for fear of getting it wet from the rain. Today, I didn’t want to put my
camera back in its case, for fear of missing a photo op.
The Castle Inn, where I stayed last night, is an upscale
hotel, with large rooms, good facilities, and nice restaurants. I ate in the
hotel's pub, because there was an electrical outlet right next to my table at which I
could charge my electronics. I can’t tell you what a luxury that was, because
most accommodations I’ve been in have an unreachable outlet set behind a heavy
piece of furniture. As a result, I missed eating in the fine restaurant, but it
looked lovely. All things being equal, I would stay there again.
But all things aren’t always equal. The Castle Inn is a mile
from Bassenthwaite, which is a mile from the Cumbria Way. Thus, I had to walk
two miles to reach the start of today’s walk. One of those miles was on
roadways, the second through farm fields with ankle-high wet grass. By the time
I joined the Cumbria Way, my boots, socks and feet were quite wet.
 |
| View from Bassenthwaite |
When I reached the Cumbria Way, I found a good dry track,
with an easy ascent. The scenery was wonderful. Beyond the Skiddaw House, a
youth hostel in the wilds of open moorland, the dry track deteriorated to a
good footpath, inundated with water from the recent rains – the very condition
I was concerned about yesterday. Since yesterday was dry, and today was
beautiful, the water on the footpath was fairly shallow and easily stepped
through, over, or around.
 |
| Trail covered with water |
The path climbed ever higher, until it was nothing more than
a narrow ridge along a precipitous edge. Some places reminded me of Yosemite,
where the trail was cut right through a rock buttress. Alongside the trail, the
purple heather awaited another day or two of sunshine before it will burst into
full color.
 |
| Trail of rock |
 |
| Heather alongside trail |
 |
| Descending to Keswick |
A long, knee-killing descent brought me to Keswick, a large
market town feeling like a bigger city compared to the small villages I’ve
visited. The footbridge over the River Greta was closed, forcing me back into the town/city to walk along a major road for the
final 2-miles to Braithwaite. Under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed
Keswick, but today I just put my camera back into its case.
