Day 42 -- Coniston Rest Day

I awoke to a light rain, which alternated between drizzly fog and sprinkles the entire morning. With the neighborhood fells totally enveloped in clouds, there was little reason to ascend them today. I telephoned Lee Wilson, the guide I had retained to take me into the fells today, and cancelled our hike. Lee lives in Shap, and remarked that the fells around Shap were also blanketed with clouds.

My plan to bag the remaining 204 (or thereabouts) Wainwrights by tomorrow thus thwarted by the weather, I looked for other ways to use the day. I started with the leisurely breakfast that I had denied myself yesterday. Then I contemplated taking a bus to a point five miles south of Coniston and walking back alongside the lake, but when I noticed wind gusts blowing the rain sideways outside the breakfast room, I rejected that idea. I instead used the morning productively to update my blog postings. The hotel’s wifi has sufficient bandwidth when there is only one user, and since I was the only one in the bar (which had not yet opened), I completed the postings with reasonable efficiency.

By noon, the satellite images showed most of the Lake District clear of rain and cloud, except for that which hung over Coniston. Interestingly enough, the satellite images showed the Isle of Man as clear the entire day. Perhaps Man is too small and too low to create its own weather. I hope so, because I’ll be there on Saturday.

I suppose after six weeks of walking, I deserve a rest day.

Day 41 -- Dungeon Ghyll to Coniston, 11 miles

A lovely morning greeted me at Dungeon Ghyll – so lovely, indeed, that several people were having breakfast outside. As delightful as the morning was, it wasn’t a southern Utah morning, so I opted to eat indoors. Still, I faced a quandary: do I enjoy a leisurely breakfast or get outside and start walking on such a perfect morning. Walking won.

As I joined the Cumbria Way, sunshine reflected off the high peaks to my left – peaks on which I had been walking three weeks ago with guide Ian Carter, when we looked down upon Dungeon Ghyll from the ridge near Stickle Tarn. The Cumbria Way follows Langdale Beck to the pretty village of Elterwater, where the path assumes a park-like setting with manicured trees, benches, families, dog walkers and picnickers (even though it was still morning).

Beyond Elterwater, the path became less populated and resumed the typical footpath characteristic – a narrow path with only a few serious walkers. Surprisingly, two of those walkers were Etty and Mieke, from the Netherlands, whom I had met at the B&B in Caldbeck, so many days ago. They’ve been walking in the Lake District since I first met them, and just happened to be on the same footpath as I was today. Tomorrow they return home.

The lovely day grew progressively overcast, until light sprinkles started to fall – enough for me to put the waterproof cover on my backpaci, but still walk in my T-shirt. As I walked through Coniston to my hotel, the sprinkles were growing heavier, and by the time I had checked into my room and decided to run a few errands, a steady rainfall had commenced. I would have been caught in it had I not foregone the leisurely breakfast.

Tarn Hows

First view of Coniston Water

Day 40 -- Buttermere to Dungeon Ghyll (Langdale), 8 miles

When I checked out of the hotel today, the clerk processed my credit card to pay in US dollars rather than in pounds. Hotels sometimes attempt that because they charge an exchange rate of about 5% higher than the official rate, in this case charging about $8 more. I’ve had hotels try to do that in the cities, but never in rural areas. When I objected, the clerk said that the charge already went through and he couldn’t undo it. When I told him to issue a refund, he said that he would have to issue the refund in Great Britain pounds, and there would be another conversion fee. “That’s OK,” I replied, “as long as I don’t get charged the fee.”

“But then the hotel will have to pay the fee,” he replied.

I shrugged my shoulders with indifference. “No problem, I’ll just call my bank and have the unauthorized charge reversed.”

In the end, the clerk issued a refund of about £6 pounds more than he had originally charged me and converted the refund to the same amount of dollars he had erroneously charged. Then he processed the bill correctly in pounds. I expect the transaction cost the hotel about $10 in fees, so maybe they’ll be more circumspect with other guests.

The start of the route from Buttermere to Dungeon Ghyll repeats much of what I walked yesterday, so in the interest of time (not to mention energy), I took a bus to Stonethwaite, where I joined the Cumbria Way. From Stonethwaite, the Cumbria Way coincides with a portion of the Coast to Coast that I walked 17 years ago, but I didn’t remember any of it. After about a mile, the two paths diverge, the Coast to Coast heading to Grasmere (where I picked it up several weeks ago) and the Cumbria Way following the course of Langstrath Beck.

Footbridge leading to Stake Pass

 

The Cumbria Way then climbs steeply up a seemingly never-ending series of switchbacks to Stake Pass, levels in the saddle, and then drops steeply into Langdale, another picturesque glacial valley. A long walk through Langdale brought me to the “New” Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, located about a mile farther along the Cumbria Way than is the Old Dungeoin Ghyll Hotel. I don’t know when the old hotel was built, but the new one was built in 1862. That was back when guests paid in cash rather than with credit cards.

Switchbacks up Stake Pass

Top of Stake Pass

Descending to Langdale

New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel

 

Day 39 -- Buttermere Fell, 6 miles

With my extra day in Buttermere, I hired a guide, Graham Niven, to take to me the best places in this part of the Lake District.  “Niv,” as he is called, is an affable Scot, who (among other things) has worked in Antarctica as a guide for the British Antarctica Survey. Although we weren’t hiking to Antarctica today, we shared common interests in polar exploration history.

Guide Graham Niven

While I could have chatted over coffee the entire day about Shackleton and Scott, Niv really wanted to show me Buttermere Fell, so I duly followed along. Our route took us up a steep trail to High Stile (one of the Wainwrights), over High Crag (another one), and across Hay Stacks (my third Wainwright today!!). Actually we may not have quite reached the top of High Stile because the summit was off-route and I didn’t think it important at the time, but we were within 50 lateral feet and 2 vertical feet, so I’m counting it now that I’ve become a peak bagger.

Hay Stacks was Wainwright’s favorite place, and his ashes were scattered at the summit near a small tarn. My attaining the three peaks today involved so much climbing and scrambling, that I was beginning to think that Niv may have to scatter my ashes there as well. But he’s a good guide and safely brought me down.

I’m going to go back to my maps and see how many Wainwrights Ian and Lee guided me to last week, as well as any others I may have unknowingly bagged on my own. Who knows, perhaps I can finish the rest of them before I leave. Then maybe I can become a guide.

While I’m looking at my maps, you can look at my pictures.

Tarn near Hay Stacks summit

 

Hay Stacks (distant) and HIgh Crag (near) viewed from High Stile
 

High Crag and Buttermere (lake) viewed from Hay Stacks
 

High Crag viewed from Hay Stacks

 

 

Day 38 -- Braithwaite to Buttermere, 8 miles

I had a delightful dinner last evening with John and Maggie, both retired educators, from Cheshire. More relevant to yesterday’s posting, John is a Wainwright bagger. His goal is to summit all of them before he turns 70. He’s already bagged about a hundred, so he’s just about halfway there.

 

Here’s the rub. John and Maggie are celebrating his birthday today, so he’s now down to a handful of years with which to achieve his goal. I think he’ll make it, though. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOHN!!

I received word that my friend, Professor Ron, suffered minor injuries in a bicycle accident resulting from skidding on a wet roadway. Ron, you should consider hiring a guide like I did yesterday, and be sure to tell him to keep your tyres dry.

 

A weather alert was issued yesterday for strong winds across Scotland and northern England, with expected gusts of 45 – 50 mph and isolated 60 mph. Warnings included avoiding high ridges expected to receive the most severe winds, creating risks of difficult movement and being blown away. I had originally planned my walk to Buttermere to be along a high ridge, but modified it to follow a mid-level footpath, assuming that the adjacent hillside would protect me from the wind. The plan worked well for about a mile, but as I moved deeper into the valley, the crosswind became a headwind and the valley narrowed, creating a Venturi effect. The headwind became ferocious, making it almost impossible to walk farther into the valley. Surrendering the mile I had already gained, I turned around and rejoined the road in a parallel, but wider, valley where there was no Venturi effect. The wind continued to blow in my face, but headway was possible. The 6½ mile distance became 8, and no more Wainwrights were bagged by me today.

Mid-level footpath

 

 

 

 

Facing Venturi Effect in narrowing valley

Exit from the valley not taken

 

Moss Force

 

A surprise awaited me at my hotel – a swan swimming in my washbasin. Fortunately, his feet were dry.

Day 37 -- Braithwaite, 9 miles

I had booked an extra day in Braithwaite to allow for some fell-walking. For those of you not quite as conversant with Brit-speak as I am that means walking in the mountains. Of course, Britain doesn’t really have any mountains, so I agreed that it would be OK to walk some of the peaks around here, commonly referred to as Wainwrights. What the British refer to as mountains are really hills carved by glaciers during the last ice age. At this latitude, the hills have all the characteristics of mountains except elevation and thin air – but at my age, any elevation gain is magnified and the air is never quite thick enough. So mountains they are.

The late Alfred Wainwright was the guru of walking in England, having written and beautifully illustrated a large collection of walking guides. He identified some 214 peaks in the Lake District that he thought particularly pleasurable, either due to scenic views, elevation, or perhaps the satisfaction one gets from completing a difficult walk. Peak bagging all the Wainwrights is rite of passage in England, very much like the Grand Canyon's rim-to-rim. I will definitely pursue peak bagging as soon as I complete my on-going pub bagging project.

Peak bagging is not for amateurs, and shouldn’t be tempted by novices without a professional guide. A good guide not only motivates you to reach the summit, but can actually identify the peak you climb so you can add it to your bag. I didn’t know of those benefits when I hired Lee Wilson, one of the best in the business. As I recall, our initial conversation went something like this.

“What are your objectives?” asked Lee.

“Surviving,” I replied, truthfully. “And keeping my feet dry.”

Professional that he is, Lee quickly grasped the situation. “I know the perfect walk for you. A little up, and then flat.” Motivating the client is the first thing guides learn in guide school.

So off we went to bag some Wainwrights – and to keep my feet dry. 

Peak Baggers Maaike and Bram

Super-guide Lee Wilson

Day 36 -- Bassenthwaite to Braithwaite, 14 miles

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.