Northern Lakes

Braithwaite

The North West Lake District is not an area I am overly familiar with. This weekend changed that and I am better for it. Arriving at Lanefoot farm on Friday evening we were greeted with a scene of tranquillity, a few white geese crossed the track in front of us, Skiddaw towered behind. The farmer/campsite warden greeted us with the news that the site was waterlogged and to take care with the car on the grass. The site consists of several fields but we were asked to camp on the meadow field which is on a slight incline. He wasn’t wrong about the wetness of the ground. There was a tractor parked on the field to rescue those who thought that the best way to climb mud/grass in a car is to floor it in 1^st gear!

We pitched up and cooked our dinner in the tent porch as the rain started. Sunshine and showers were predicted for Friday and Saturday, this was one of several showers. The entertainment was provided courtesy of those trying to drive up the hill at 7000 revs and a family trying to erect a canvas space-station in the rain. All they needed to do was to wait 20 minutes or so for the shower to pass. All part of the ‘budget holiday’ experience to them I suppose? Shortly after washing up in the excellent facilities on the site, we were joined by The Stig.

Ben Collins wasn’t really with us that weekend but I am not too sure where I stand as far as identifying people who perhaps should have been doing other things - You know who you are! The farmer was driving a quad-bike around the site with fire grates and logs in tow. A fire would have been nice but we wanted to sample some real ales so we went to the pub instead.

Causey Pike

For the second weekend in a row we awoke to the sound of rain on the tent. Our day was delayed by the very stuff that shapes the hills and fills the lakes. You cannot live in The UK without loving the rain a little bit. Eventually we were underway. I drove us to the start point as The Stig-powered Subaru carried us last time. The steep climb towards the Summit of Causey Pike was uneventful, except for when I realised the ‘Sheep Thong’ I had put on for a laugh was still being worn as we passed a group of fellow walkers. It hastily came off, but not before I accidentally activated the novelty baa baa (x6) noise built into the bloody thing!

The rain started again just after the final summit scramble. It lasted for the next 2 ½ hours. Showers my arse! We shortened the intended walk by half to about 6 ½ miles and covered a couple of smaller peaks instead. We were on the summit of the last of these peaks, Barrow, when the rain stopped and we were treated to a rainbow over Derwent Water. After the walk we headed into Keswick for a bit of gear shopping (see last weeks entry) and to pick up a “bit” of BBQ food. (I know an un-tamed racing driver has to keep his strength up but 12 sausages Stig)!!

Disposable BBQs are about as damaging to the planet as you can get so we bought three of them. They were crap. I really must invest in a real BBQ! After an hour of coal-poking, the Stig had consumed 3 burgers and 10 of his 12 sausages. One of his extra sausages was taken by Mrs RAR, the other was eaten by, let’s say an Eagle, no a Giraffe. I don’t know where it ended up but it was eaten. The Ales in the village were of a high standard (and price) so we rounded off the evening in the pub.

Ghost!

Did I get that last whisky “for the road”? I don’t remember but I was talking to a Scottish bloke at some point. The road from the pub to the campsite was dark but being men, Stig and I didn’t need torches. Mrs RAR however had her Petzl set low to avoid any mishaps. Ahead we saw the eyes of a dog reflected back at us.

Accompanying the dog was a tall dark figure, the dog was howling. It felt quite eerie walking down the white centre lines of the road with the mysterious figure and the howling ensured that we were bordering on scared.

I pulled out my 1wat LED Cyberlite and illuminated the way ahead. The figure, dog and howling were no more. By the time we reached where they had been (standing)? There was no trace. All three lights at full power, we searched the bush, fields and the road ahead. No trace of them was found. Did a man and his dog meet their demise on this road? Was a shepherd killed and left with his dog wailing by his master’s body? These were the kind of questions we were asking each other for the rest of the walk back and much of the following day.

Grisedale Pike

How many Lakes are there in The Lake District? One – Bassenthwaite Lake (the other stretches of water are Tarns, Meres or Waters). Although we were camped close to it, we never visited the shores of Bassenthwaite Lake. It is there for next time. Braithwaite village, we visited several times. It is pleasant and not spoiled by the tourists. I don’t mean ‘outdoors’ type tourists, I mean those with wads of cash to spend who speak of having “a most charming weekend in the Lake District” at their Wednesday evening Dinner Party. We had a “most charming” mug of tea (60p) and The Stig bought a non-ciabatta butty for £1.90 at the village store.

Shortly after clearing the trees, we had a clear view of the campsite in the middle of Braithwaite. I had considered this site at first but Diddy (Tent Demon) and jack on www.outdoorsmagic.com advised against it and suggested the Lightfoot Farm site that we stayed at. Their advice was good; the other site looked packed and sterile. We were also supposed to meet Dave Mycroft from www.outdoorsmagic.com this weekend for Mrs RAR to test and review some ladies boots. He never turned up, I hope he is ok. (Updated. He was fine! we met up and the Boots are being tested).

The path leading from Braithwaite offers great views and by the time we reached the summit, most of the Lake District was visible, along with The Isle of Man, the North Pennines and the mountains of Dumfries and Galloway in Scotland. I thought to myself, if there is a reason to live, this is surely it! Sitting in the sunshine with the whole of Cumbria before you makes you wish you were immortal, that time could stand still. I didn’t want to leave this place. It made me feel alive again.

Descent

We spent a few minutes watching a tough, yet stupid beetle making his way across the stony summit. He seamed to progress by walking up a rock, falling off and then walking up another, repeating the process over and over. It is a good job he had a hard shell! Our intention was to bag a few more peaks, but Mrs RAR was feeling a little unwell and time was against us, so we decided to cut it a little short. The descent from Grisedale pike to the bottom of Force Crag is punctuated with mine workings and one of the most spectacular waterfalls in Cumbria. High Force and Low force plunge hundreds of feet from the Hanging Valley in a landscape like Borneo in miniature.

The old Cobalt mine at the bottom is certainly a blot on the landscape but holds interest of its own. Apparently it was the last mine in The Lake District to close (1990) and it is possible to arrange tours around its old workings. I saw many potential photographs but I exhausted my battery on the waterfall. The remaining descent is a long and drawn out walk down the valley but it was rewarded by Cumberland Sausage at the pub in Braithwaite. A perfect end to an excellent weekend, how The Stig fitted in even more sausage I will never know. (some say he used to be a pig farmer).

As a quick note to end with, I noticed that I had not cleaned my empty Mackerel Tins properly before storing in my bag (see previous Blog posts)! This has resulted in a bag stinking of fish. As we are walking Wainwrights Coast to Coast in a couple of weeks, I can envisage A flock of Seagulls following me accross Northern England! I shall beat them away with a walking pole!

If anyone has any questions about the photographs – just ask :-).