On Writing

I have always loved photography and I do try and take care to compose and frame any picture I take, then edit, crop and process them afterwards, all of which I enjoy doing. Years ago, I had been swayed by an album a client had brought in to the office to show me, that she’d created and had printed, and which was lovely but when I produced my own, I was disappointed that the photos looked too dark. I then used to create a yearly small, soft cover photo book of some of our favourite Lake District views via a function on my computer, but they went on the bookshelf and I forgot about them until about 10 years later when I pulled them out with a slight grimace and thought I could do better. Back then, there was no real provision for creating your own layouts or designs; you simply followed pre-set templates.

In late 2019, a photographer we used to watch on You Tube was talking about producing a photobook. That piqued my interest, so I had a look at the website, which was amazing and I realised just how much things have moved on. You could produce, publish and sell a really professional looking book and let your creativity run wild.

There was a choice of lots of different size books with a hard cover with or without a dust jacket, a soft cover, a magazine, a small information booklet or a large coffee table book. You could choose the number of pages, the size of book, the paper quality, background colours, the layout and print options. You could use templates, or do it entirely your own way. It made my mouth water, and the possibilities for creativity and design seemed endless.

I couldn't wait to get started. A simple download of some software took a few minutes, then all I had to do was choose the style of book. I thought I'd start with a small, soft cover 7 x 5 inch booklet with Lake District photos. However, I realised (and I confess, I hadn't thought about this) that I could add text boxes and actually write a little book.... I watched one or two of the tutorial videos on how to get started, and then I got started.

I thought I'd turn some of my blogs into little books of their own, and each blog proved to be just about the right length to have a full page of text - I think I averaged about 25 pages - along with a full page colour picture. I did 12 in the end, and made a folio box to keep them in which I was quite pleased with.

Bro and I then decided to produce a large format, coffee table style book about our time in the Lakes, with a possible view to selling it, and we really took a great deal of time and care choosing the best photos, the paper quality and the layout. It ended up as a large 90 page book with the slightly lustrous pages showing off our photographs beautifully. I didn't really write very much text as we were trying to keep it more arty (under Bro’s guidance as he is a designer), so it just had one or two pertinent lines on each page. We were really delighted with the results. We went on to do a second volume a year or so later, following exactly the same layout and style as the first.

Pleased by our efforts, during lockdown, we mooted the idea of actually writing a book of our Wainwright climbing experiences, and I really relished that, especially as it would be a good memory jogger for the future. It took a long time, as we had to get the timelines right, choose photos, decide which fells to mention, wrack our brains as to anything interesting or funny that had happened, but we soon had quite a thick book. When Bro read it, we realised I'd got some of the early walks in the wrong order and I didn't really like how some of the photos looked, so the following year, I revised it, taking the time to expand and increase certain sections. I must have added about 25 more pages, but felt it was as comprehensive as it could be and we were really delighted. The quality was amazing and it really felt like a proper book, with a barcode and ISBN number.

Once I'd finished that book, I was keen to do something else. Dad suggested I combine all my little 7x5 books into one hardback book, in the same format as the Wainwright book, and it became a lovely way for me to spend an hour or two every so often through lockdown. Once that was finished, I decided to combine all my blogs into a blog book (again, in the same format) as I anticipated deleting my website at some point in the future. That one didn’t take as long to produce and I was really pleased with it. 

I then decided to tackle what is still a big part of my life, my travels, and this really was a labour of love. Firstly, I had over 30 years to pick through, and then, as I've been to over 84 countries, remembering the trips really tested my memory. Secondly, a lot of my photos from those early trips were not digital and therefore not great quality, and it involved a lot of hunting through hard to get to photo albums, then endless scanning and editing. That book probably took me the longest time to complete up to that point, but it brings back a lot of fantastic memories.

After lockdown, I wrote one about my observations in nature whilst out and about during my year and a half of furlough, and I'm particularly proud of the way that turned out. However, much as I loved writing and producing these books, I didn't really want an entire shelf full of them, so during 2022 I spent some time revising one or two of those I'd already produced, just to try and get them as perfect as I could. 

Having said that, whilst we were writing our Wainwright walking book, we did get a bit tired of constantly having to log on to laptops or computers, of trawling through hundreds and hundreds of photos, of scanning through websites trying to identify summit cairns, or wracking our brains just to remember one or two small details. Bro sighed one day and said ‘this is ridiculous. We just need all this information in one place with a picture of each summit so we can look at it whenever we want without doing all this. Why don't you do a book on that?’ 

That seemed like a good, albeit slightly daunting, idea. We decided each photo would be a simple summit shot (not of us, just the cairn) with a few notes about the routes we took, the weather and anything memorable that happened. It took me about three months to write and probably another month to sort out the photos, which was a real effort as some (actually most) of our early photos weren't labelled, and we spent ages trying to identify piles of stones! Now that it's finished (at 240 pages long), we have a wonderful reference guide to dip into and jog our memories without having to involve any technology. 

I have one last book I'm working on, and it will be the same format as our Wainwright memory book, but for the Outlying fells. That's an ongoing project at the moment, as we still have half of them left to climb! 

We now have a small pile of books to dip in and out of, to remind us of lots of happy times, and which I've really loved doing. I do feel a little rush of satisfaction every time I look at them.

Duddon Delights

Our first trip in 2023 at the beginning of March was to the Lakes, staying in Coniston with the aim of climbing seven outlying fells in and around the beautiful Duddon Valley. Snow was predicted for the end of the week, but we had beautiful blue skies and clear, warm weather all week, except for one afternoon when it snowed very lightly and continued through the night, and we woke to the Old Man resplendent in white against the bluest sky. The roads were clear and it all look gorgeously alpine.

Our first walk was about half way along the Duddon Valley where we parked opposite the river and took a gently climbing path up through the bracken. It was very warm, but easy walking and very dry underfoot. The views out to the coast were beautiful and we soon reached the first of four fells climbed that day, Great Stickle. The breeze was a little cooler on the summit, but we soon warmed up again as we headed towards our next objective, Stickle Pike, very prominent ahead. A simple walk over flattish ground, then a very steep final climb, and we were enjoying fantastic views over to Caw and the Coniston range. A short down and a little climb back up brought us to Tarn Hill, then we dropped down again to Dunnerdale Fells, which took us about 20 minutes to find as there were no obvious paths. The views were beautiful and the whole plateau was dotted with tiny, pretty tarns. Back at the car, we brewed coffee and drank it by the River Duddon.

Our next walk was The Knott and Raven's Crag in Dunnerdale, in the upper Duddon Valley; somewhere we'd never been before and which felt very remote, although it was stunning. This was our favourite walk of the week, and the path took us past the old Stainton mine workings, then very gradually and easily climbed up to The Knott at the end of the ridge, where we basked in the incredibly warm sunshine, admiring the views out to the coast. We spent quite some time soaking it all in before descending a little way, then tackling a steepish although very simple and short climb, which brought us out on the Raven's Crag ridge. It was lovely in the sun, although the breeze coming from the high fells behind us was a little cooler. We spent a lot of time enjoying the warmth before continuing on to the end of the ridge, before dropping down and re-joining our original path back to the car, and lunch in Torver. 

The final climb was The Pike from Ulpha. The sun was really quite hot as we parked opposite Ulpha Church and took a path up through Rainsbarrow Wood, then out onto a fairly steep section of the Birker Fell Road. Branching off at a finger post after only about 10 minutes on the road, we could see The Pike ahead as we crossed a field of Herdwicks and took a signed footpath through a very quiet Baskell Farm, up onto the open fellside beyond. From there, it was a stiff climb to the summit where the wind became much stronger and colder. The views were superb; right down the length of the Duddon Valley one way and over the vast, wild and remote expanse of moorland looking towards Eskdale, the other. We contemplated climbing Hesk Hill, but as snow was predicted, we decided to leave that for perhaps the summer months and more benign weather. We took photos, then made our way back again, stopping for a drink by a drystone wall for a little respite from the wind, but by the time we were back at the car, it was so warm we sat by the River Duddon at Ulpha Bridge brewing hot drinks and enjoying the peace and scenery.

Aside from climbing, we visited Kelly Hall Tarn and Torver Common again, areas we love, we walked by Lake Coniston and sat on the shores drinking hot chocolate. We lazed in the beautiful hotel gardens with their view of the lake and enjoyed looking round the Ruskin Museum. After a week in Coniston, we moved on to Ambleside for a couple of nights, staying at Rydal Hall, enjoying some quiet time before the journey home. It was a lovely ten days away, with beautiful weather and some stunning, new landscapes, topped off with a sprinkling of snow.

THe view from Great stickle

The knott’s sunny summit

duddon valley from the pike

a snow covered old man of coniston

The Ancient Woodland

I write a lot on this blog about the Lake District, Peak District and many other places, some far flung, that I’ve visited, but this time I thought I’d write about somewhere that’s right on my doorstep and which, during lockdown, became something of a godsend.

It’s a copse of ancient woodland, just over 20 acres in size, which has been there for at least 500 years. It takes about eight minutes for us to walk to, and marks the boundary between North Berkshire and South Oxfordshire. It’s bordered on three sides by houses, but the fourth side leads on and out into open, arable farmland, huge fields and lovely woodlands. It can lead to a fairly sizeable, rural walk if you wish.

In the 1800s it was part of a large, nearby estate where they grazed their black cattle and some of the original iron fencing from that time still exists. Up until the middle of the 1900s it was farmland. Hazel coppicing is now taking place, something I don’t remember seeing there before, to promote new growth and prolong the life of the trees. A large area has just been cleared because of Ash dieback, but is now full of buttercups.

Consisting of two vast fields, one used by local youth football teams on occasional Saturdays, the other is left wilder so that in spring and summer, the whole area is filled with wildflowers. Ancient oak and beech woods encircle the fields with huge, vast trunked, magnificent oaks a particular feature. Elsewhere, whip like hazel saplings have self seeded into mini woodlands of their own, interspersed with hawthorn, silver birch and blackthorn, making the area varied and interesting to walk in. The land is clay; in fact it’s the only patch of clay north of the River Thames, but this does lead to a great deal of mud in the winter months. It is also a nature reserve with a sculpture trail, and marks the beginning of the Chiltern Hills.

When we were kids, we tended to avoid the woods; they had an atmosphere; a little creepy, not that nice and the area had a bit of a ‘reputation’. Whether it was just parents exercising caution for a group of young teens not to stay out too late in case something happened (who knows, but probably), or us just thinking all woods were creepy, it was a still good place to walk our dogs and meet friends. As adults, we have taken our young dogs there to run in the big fields and socialise with other dogs, have ridden bikes and horses down its leafy lanes and have explored every inch of the woodlands, the edgelands and beyond. It’s fair to say we’ve walked there hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

In spring, the hawthorn hedgerow which lines one side of the main field is thick with beautiful May blossom, birds, insects and butterflies. The field is then carpeted in thousands of white daisies. There is a wild cherry which is a sight to see in full bloom, and on a warm summer evening scores of rabbits sit on the grassy rides, grooming each other and playing. Vast areas of the woodland are carpeted in bluebells and wood anemones, and birdsong is loud and beautiful.

In summer, the wildflowers are out in full force; common orchids, yellow rattle and common knapweed amongst many others, then the area is mown and made into hay bales, leaving a sweet, rich and fragrant smell in the air. A tiny pond near the entrance is surrounded by marsh marigolds and occupied by the occasional mallard.

In autumn, there is an abundance of blackberries, hazelnuts and sloes which we gather in earnest. We’ve also found crabapples and even an apple tree which must have been seeded by birds and which yielded a good sweet crop, collected as windfalls. A variety of mushrooms litter the floor and the colours of the oaks and beeches are beautiful.

In winter, there is an area where old Christmas Trees can be left to be chipped for mulch. Huge tangy smelling piles of chipped bark are free for anyone to take, which we have in the past, and by about February, all of it has disappeared. The woods are a lovely, quiet place to walk at this time of year, with drifts of snowdrops appearing after Christmas, but it does become very muddy with so much footfall.

In November last year, friends of the woodland put a Tree Trail up along a path which runs down the south side of the woodland, next to a Saxon bank and ditch we hadn’t noticed before as it was overgrown, but has now been cleared. Little signs were attached to a variety of trees, pointing out those of particular interest. The area had once been part of the aforementioned estate, so there are some trees I wouldn’t usually associate with woodlands, such as a large solitary Yew, but the signs pointed out, amongst Oak, Beech and Holly; Cedar, Elm, Ash, Wild Service, Hazel, Hornbeam and rarest of all, a Rocky Mountain White Pine, reputedly planted by none other than Thomas Jefferson in the 1700s when he visited the estate!

During lockdown, along one of the main paths, someone had pinned plastic bags containing a little knitted heart and a beautiful uplifting message inside, encouraging people to take one, which I thought was a wonderfully thoughtful idea and so charming. It really did cheer me up, and still does when I look at it.

We walked every day we were allowed to during lockdown, and then beyond as restrictions lifted but we were only allowed to walk close to home. It gave us peace, beauty, encounters with nature, time to think, time to clear heads and minds, daily exercise and a sense of purpose in difficult and changing times. We still walk there regularly when we don’t want to take the car out, and always see and find something new and interesting.

I really don’t know what we would have done without it. We are so grateful for it and and we love it.

North in November

We have just returned from a wonderful ten days in the Lakes and it was a real tonic after heavy colds for both of us. An afternoon in Lancaster to break the the journey up saw us walking into the city beside the River Lune and exploring the castle for the first time, which was really interesting.

Basing ourselves in a sumptuously appointed flat in Ambleside, we took the week at an easier pace than in times past. We saw this trip as a chance to savour those areas we really love and hadn't visited for a while as our previous few visits had either been to the far eastern or far western fringes of the Lakes. We explored Ambleside in depth, noting small changes here and there, and shopping in the array of artisan and outdoor shops. We took walks from our door to places we hadn't seen or been to before. A late afternoon walk to Low and then High Sweden Bridges capped off the end of Scandale for us, having previously passed High Sweden Bridge on our way down the length of Scandale in 2016, when we only really took a brief look at the end of a long day climbing Red Screes, Middle Dodd and Little Hart Crag. This time, the mists descended and it was wonderfully atmospheric and quiet, although it began to rain heavily just as we passed the Golden Rule. We also climbed up towards Todd Crag, but carried on along a rough path towards Loughrigg, mushroom spotting along the way, before descending via the lower flanks of Todd Crag, again in drizzly rain and fading light. We walked through Rothay Park, marvelling at the force of the little River Rothay after recent rains and the flooding on the Under Loughrigg Road by Miller Bridge. We walked up to Stock Ghyll Force, having only walked to the half way point before and never to the top of the ravine where the waterfall was in full, roaring spate. We also visited Grasmere where we had lunch at Freda & Rays, had a wander round Windermere and a very busy Keswick busy gearing up for Christmas, with decorations in shop windows and the main lights being strung across the Moot Hall.

Continuing climbing the Outlying fells, we visited Whitbarrow Scar from Witherslack, dodging the rain showers on the delightful summit which we had to ourselves, but getting caught on the descent. We parked and re-climbed Scout Scar, simply because we were nearby and we'd love it when first visited in 2017. The rain started falling heavily as we began climbing, and a squall of sleety rain and strong, freezing wind hit us on the summit, so, after sheltering in the Mushroom for ten minutes, we went straight back to the car again to thaw out and dry off!

We ascended Newton Fell South from the village of Lindale and had atmospheric views over Morecambe Bay from the surprisingly chilly summit, we re-climbed Orrest Head as it had been eight years since we'd been there and it was wonderful to see 'where it all began' for Alfred Wainwright again. We loved that the paths are now properly wheelchair friendly so everyone can enjoy the scenery. We extended the walk by heading north over rolling fields and were rewarded with lovely pastoral views towards Lake Windermere, seen from a slightly different and new angle. We parked in High Sawrey and re-climbed Claife Heights on a beautiful autumn day; sunny, warm, a hint of a cool breeze and lovely colours in the woods. The simple walk gently ascended through tiny pine trees and heather and coppery bracken, looking very Scottish, with lovely Windermere views. The summit and surrounding area had been deforested since our last visit, so we found the trig point easily this time; something that had eluded us in 2015 when we failed to find it, or even see it, amongst the pine trees.

We journeyed up to the far north to the quiet village of Blindcrake basking in the sun of a spell of incredibly warm and dry weather to climb Clint's Crags; another that had eluded us a number of years ago, when we thought better of crossing the open fellside with a dog, a herd of cows and one very large bull for company! This time, the walk was bovine free, easy and enjoyable and the panorama magnificent over Bassenthwaite Lake, stretching from Grasmoor to Binsey. We went further north still, to the most northerly outlying fell in fact, Faulds Brow. The journey took us through villages and areas we had never visited before; High Ireby, Whelpo, Bothel, Caldbeck and across the stunning Uldale and Caldbeck Commons. Just incredible scenery and so totally different from the rest of Lakeland. The walk was simple and straightforward, undertaken in Tshirts and utter peace and solitude. The fell was small and simply attained, with beautiful views of the back of Carrock Fell and High Pike with Skiddaw in the distance. A walk round Caldbeck and a delicious lunch of roast beef at the Oddfellows Arms was the perfect end to the walk.

It was a wrench to leave this time; it had been so relaxing and full of spectacular scenery, as always, but also time spent exploring interesting, new places in lovely mild November weather. As I write this, it is cold, wet and raining, so I’m enjoying the warm memories.

CLAIFE HEIGHts OVERLOOKING WINDErmerE

high sweden bridge

bassenthwaite lake from clints crags

whitbarrow’s summit

Peak Perfection

Late September found us thankfully out of the extreme heat of August, into the beautifully warm weather of early autumn. Basing ourselves in Edale, plans had been made to climb Kinder Scout (first time for Bro, second time for me), but a gorgeous golden evening had given way to a murky early morning; the mist never really leaving the tops of the high hills all day. Instead, a quick dash up Mam Tor for Bro and a decision not to carry on along the ridge saw us in the pretty village of Hathersage instead, exploring the back streets, ambling up to the church and Little John's Grave, having lunch at Outside before making our way up and onto the sublime Stannage Edge and then Higger Tor. The mists of the Edale valley had not reached this far, so the views were soft and beautiful, the landscape gentle and rolling, painted in shades of palest green and soft lilac. The air was warm without the heat, the breeze cool, the walking simple and enjoyable.

We found Hordron Edge which we had to ourselves, exploring a lovely stone circle and eating wild bilberries while gazing out over the heather clad hills towards Ladybower Reservoir. We ventured over to Robin Hood's Stride near Elton, climbing the boulder outcrop for lovely views, explored the hermit's cave at Cratcliffe Tor and found a tiny stone circle in a nearby field. We explored Bakewell, trying the exquisite Bakewell Pudding, then went on to climb Bamford Edge; a humid climb through shoulder high bracken before revelling in cool air and wonderful views from the summit.

The final visit of our short stay was to the wonderful Chatsworth House on a day their Country Fair was taking place, meaning hundreds of visitors in the park, but the house and grounds virtually empty. We entered the house through the Duke's private garden; a real privilege as it rarely opens to the public. The opulence of the house was beautifully balanced by the wonderful grounds, especially The Rock Garden. Before the journey home, we stopped at their lovely farm shop and enjoyed a simple lunch in the cafe.

We love the Peak District, having lived about half an hour away more years ago than I care to remember, and this short visit made us fall in love with it all over again. A return trip is already being planned...

stannage edge views

ladybower reservoir from bamford edge

gorgeous little stone circle

chatsworth house

evening in edale

The Shap Fells

The hottest August on record saw us in the far east of the Lake District, walking the Shap Fells as part of our quest to complete Wainwright's outlying fells.

The hills here do not comprise individual, distinctive peaks but are rather a rolling massif of grassland and distinctive pink granite. The landscape around the pretty, linear village of Shap is beautiful; pastoral, gentle and far reaching with panoramas on a scale we have not often seen in the Lakes.

The remote valley of Wet Sleddale was a delight. It felt truly unspoiled, filled with birdsong, trees and small hillocks covered in purple flowering heather. The reservoir, although obviously a man made shape when viewed from above, had wading birds around the shoreline, was Scots Pine lined and very pleasant to walk beside on a warm early morning. The fells above Wet Sleddale were rolling rather than steep, grassy rather than rocky and completely devoid of people, even in the middle of August. Vast grasslands, small tarns and stunning views made this a wonderfully peaceful place to walk, then sit and admire the panoramas.

The limestone outcrop of Knipescar Common has become a firm favourite. A beautiful plateau with the most incredible panorama; stretching from the village of Shap, to all the high fells around Haweswater, to the northern fells and right round to the Pennines. An absolutely extraordinary view from a very modest little fell. Time was spent hunting for a stone circle or ancient enclosure in the bracken, finding stones but unable to view the whole, then enjoying something to eat in what has to be one of the most beautiful lunch spots.

High on the Shap Fells, we ventured over towards Crookdale early one morning, climbing over surprisingly marshy ground as the heat began to build. Toiling up the first grass covered bulk, we stopped often to catch our breath and the breeze, and to take on water. The summit was shimmering in a haze of heat, and time was spent searching for the three small stones making up the summit. Discussions were had as to whether to venture on to another, higher peak given the heat, but on we ploughed. The breeze thankfully cooled us as we climbed higher; the views opening out over Crookdale, the Long Sleddale fells and the hazy Pennines on the horizon. The summit was unclear; we ventured on further, wasting precious energy, then had to re-trace our steps and climb a wall in order to find a concrete summit ring buried in the grass, marking the true summit. The descent was swift, but in the bottom of the small valley out of the breeze, the heat had reached fearsome proportions and, after labouring up the other side of the valley, we felt ourselves overheating and dripping with perspiration. A quick breather, taking long, deep gulps of water and dousing ourselves liberally from a small marshy pool, revived us enough at the end of the climb for the walk back to the car to a welcome change of clothes and refreshment.

A beautiful area; one that really made an impression on us and one we will return to, of that I have no doubt.

beautiful wet sleddale

SCOTS PINES ALONG THE SHORE

views from the fells above wet sleddale

photos don’t do the panorama from knipescar common justice

crookdale

On peace and tranquility

I’ve just read a fascinating book, Windswept by Annabel Abbs, in which the author follows routes taken by several well known women, when it really wasn’t common, usual or even safe for women to walk recreationally, never mind alone. They all had different reasons for walking, but the common thread seems to have been a search for either freedom or peace. This got me thinking about my walking and what I’m searching for.

Aside from the more obvious reasons such as health and fitness, exploration in a more intimate way, experiencing the seasons and the weather and all the accompanying sights, smells and sounds, it’s just something I really love doing and have done for decades. More esoterically, I find I’m seeking out peace and solitude as I get older and this thought occurred to me when a recent walk in beautiful bluebell woods filled with birdsong was marred by the whining, continuous shriek of a chainsaw tearing through the silence. I know people have valuable work that must be done, but we are assailed by so much noise every day and most of it I’m not sure we realise is there, so attuned have we become. An hour or two of peace is calming, restorative and grounding. An hour or two of walking in peace clears my head, stills my mind, restores the equilibrium. It’s become an important part of my day when I switch off the phone for an hour and wind down. A quick evening walk in the summer months after work gives me a wonderful sense of freedom after being cooped up inside, as well as siphoning off the stresses and strains of the day. Many an hour stuck in traffic has been borne with the anticipation of a walk in the woods or by the river.

As a youngster, I was very shy and introverted. As a teenager, I was never heavily into partying or drinking and preferred to be outdoors with Bro, friends, dogs or horses for company. During our decades of travelling the world, Bro and I journeyed to slightly off the beaten track, less populated places such as the Galapagos, Namibia, Tanzania, Borneo and Tibet which, twenty or so years ago, weren’t as popular as they have now become. I think our shyness and slight lack of confidence perhaps led us to avoiding places with lots of people, and whether that was a conscious or subconscious choice, I’m not sure, but it certainly had a bearing on where we went, and still does to an extent. We like wild, empty places with big views and dramatic skies, plenty of wildlife and beautiful scenery.

In latter years on the fells and mountains of the Lake District, we loved loved the wide, open fells in less frequented areas, revelling in the views, the peace and the solitude. We also started setting off on our walks earlier and earlier, enjoying the cool, quiet of the dawn and delighting in the most beautiful sunrises from the summits. This usually was a conscious decision, but for practical and logistical reasons, such as finding a parking spot in the height of summer or not wanting to be caught in traffic, rather than a need to get away from everyone; we certainly enjoyed many, many conversations on the hill and in the pub afterwards with interesting, wonderfully friendly people, lots of whom became friends on social media.

All this, I suppose, crystallises my feelings that now peace, quiet and contentment and a certain amount of freedom (I have constraints and responsibilities like everyone else) are hugely important to me and this comes with a simpler life, a slower pace, a greater appreciation of the little things and simple pleasures. Being outdoors, surrounded by green, by birdsong, in fresh, clean air perhaps with a view, with company or alone; I feel I’ve become much more attuned to nature and the natural world around me and that brings me great inner peace.

Enjoying Ennerdale

Our first visit to the Lakes of the year was towards the end of March. We decided to re-climb Steeple, but this time from the Ennerdale Valley as we’d really only looked down on it and Ennerdale Water from the surrounding fells and had never walked in the valley. On the way to Cleater Moor, we stopped at Tebay Services having watched the television programmes, and were very impressed with the range and quality of everything on offer and, of course, the lovely setting. We had a cup of coffee and then made another stop at Rheged to stock up on some of their amazing salads and pastries.

We booked to stay a couple of nights at a country house hotel in Cleater Moor which made it very handy for the drive the next day to the head of the lake, which we did fairly early. Parking at Bowness Knott, the walk by the lake’s northern shore was lovely, although it started to rain quite hard. Togged up in full wet weather gear, we entered Ennerdale Forest, a cool, shady and quiet place made up of lovely Scots pines and home to a herd of wary looking black cattle. Luckily the rain stopped as we came out of the forest and it actually began to warm up a little. We followed the path to a bridge crossing Low Beck, then took a steep path up through the forest next to a substantial waterfall crashing down a very deep gully for some way, carrying on climbing steeply for perhaps half an hour until we came out of the tree line and into the sun and heather. After a quick breather and drink, we followed the path up towards Long Crag, seeing Steeple looming ahead.

The views of Ennerdale Water were gorgeous, as they were down Windgap Cove and across to Pillar, but as we climbed higher, the wind became much stronger and colder and the mist descended. It did clear momentarily on the summit, so we had views across to Haycock and Caw and the down the whole of the Ennerdale Valley. We didn’t linger very long on the top as the wind was really very cold, but as we began the long descent, the weather gradually improved and back down in the valley it was a lovely warm and sunny late afternoon.

The following day we headed back to Grasmere where we visited Dove Cottage and the Wordsworth Museum which we’d never been to before and found really very interesting. We were incredibly lucky to see the only known written version of ‘Daffodils’ which was on loan from the British Library until the end of May. The next day we re-climbed Helm Crag which was the first fell we climbed 14 years ago and it was certainly the right thing to do that day as all the surrounding higher hills were shrouded in mist while we had fantastic views. We walked out and back to Gibson Knott to get views back to Helm Crag and, on the descent, tried to shelter from an unexpected hail shower before stopping for a delicious lunch at Lancrigg, just as the heavens really opened! The lovely staff put everyone’s wet gear in their drying room which was so kind of them as we dried out in front of the fire. We couldn’t believe how much about the summit we’d forgotten, apart from the Howitzer, and we certainly found it much easier climbing this time than before!

We then moved on to Windermere for a some relaxing time for a change, and visited Beatrix Potter’s Hill Top at Near Sawrey, also somewhere we’d never been, although we had been to the village before. It was very interesting and you could see where she had used places like her staircase in the books. We stopped at Esthwaite Water on the way back and had a little walk along the shore which was lovely and peaceful, making a mental note to perhaps return and walk from there along the Beatrix Potter trail to Near Sawrey. We climbed our 50th Outlying Fell, Raven’s Barrow, from the Gummer’s How car park, a new area for us and lovely in a gentle, undulating way, with views over to Cartmel. The weather wasn’t at its best, but the hotel was very comfortable with a beautiful lounge and wonderful views of Windermere; perfect with a glass of wine in the evening. We wandered around the town, down to the lake and I walked round to Cockshot Point one afternoon as my brother had aggravated his sciatica and was relaxing at the hotel.

All in all, it was an interesting week and we satisfyingly achieved everything we’d set out to do. It was so good to be back and we really enjoyed it.

Looking forward, but also glancing back

So, a new year has begun and I start it off with a dose of Covid… I managed to avoid it for the last two years, then I go back to work after Christmas and bam…!

To be fair, I haven’t really been that ill; just a cold and a feeling of heavy tiredness, but it’s the isolation that really gets me. A short turn around the garden and sitting in one room with the window open is all the fresh air I’m getting, but I’m lucky and grateful not to be worse as so many have been and still are.

Now that watching television has momentarily lost its appeal (although there are some good films on Netflix I’ve enjoyed), and I don’t feel like reading any more at the moment, my thoughts have turned to plans for the year ahead, but also to thoughts of last year and the completion of our Wainwright journey after 9 years. I thought I might add one or two reflections on our time spent completing the wonderful challenge, for anyone contemplating it for themselves.

oOo

I would say start with all the lower fells first. I know there’s a tendency to want to leap up the biggest, hardest and highest, but if you’re in it for the long haul and you haven’t really done much climbing before, it will pay to start off more slowly. We made all our mistakes on the relative safety of lower, grassy fells with shorter distances to walk if we felt tired, if the weather turned cold or wet, if the light started to fade, knowing where we were if we went wrong (we didn’t) and no real harm done if we slipped.

You build up a sure footedness over time, a knack of moving on rock and grass, of getting used to carrying a weighty pack, of honing your navigation skills along with developing fitness and greater muscle strength. Once you’ve built all that, muscle memory kicks in and, as long as you continue exercising in between visits, you will be able to pick up where you left off, even if it’s some months later (and I’m aiming this at people who like us, have to travel to the hills).

I would say though, you can’t really train for the mountains unless you’re in the mountains; it doesn’t matter how many times you go up and down a grassy bank or run on a treadmill, it’s just not the same as dealing with uneven ground and the elements whilst climbing, watching your feet, balancing your pack or handling a dog as we did for years in the early days. Being hill fit I think, is in a category of its own.

You will know get to know your limitations and your tolerances and this becomes a very useful tool indeed. We know how long we can put up with torrential rain, high wind, boiling sun or freezing sleet. We know how much water to take and how much each of us needs to drink to avoid dehydration. We know when we’ve had enough, we know when another peak is one too many, or that yes, we could climb another and still have energy for the return trip. We know we can ignore being super hot and sweaty or having freezing thighs and still be able to carry on. Everyone’s different, but it will mean you can plan your hill days accordingly over time.

Don’t give up. I know that sounds a bit trite, but we pondered on what made us keep going when we’d climbed say, 70 or 125, when it’s hard to see an end and it feels like there’s so much more to do. The honest answer is we can’t remember, but I suspect it’s that we loved it and just wanted to complete it, but we also didn’t really focus on the end point, just that week’s walking. Of course there were the odd times we really didn’t feel like doing it, but persevere because it’s an immense and wonderful feeling of achievement when you finish.

It was surprisingly easy to change our mindsets from ‘what, up there?’ or ‘how far?’, to positive, can-do attitudes and when that happened, it really made a huge difference to, well, all of it. I don’t really remember trying to being more positive, it just happened organically the more we did and the more we started enjoying it. It’s a good feeling.

In fact, all of it’s a good feeling when everything comes together and all you have to think about during the day is the landscape around you, the fresh air and the skylarks.

oOo

So after this, what’s next for us? We fully understand now why people immediately start a second round of Wainwright’s; there’s a powerful pull there that’s hard to ignore and you’re unwilling to let go of. However, we are going back to the Lakes in March, to Ennerdale this time for a walk round the lake and up Steeple from that side. We’re also going to climb Helm Crag and Latrigg again as these were a couple of the very first ones we did and it was so long ago (and we were rubbish back then) that we’d like to revisit them. We aren’t going to stay in the Lakes for the whole time either; we’re going to veer off into the Yorkshire Dales and climb round High Cup Nick, perhaps one or two (but probably three knowing us) of the Yorkshire Peaks and maybe a Howgill or two.

oOo

Whatever you plans are for this year, I hope you’re healthy and happy doing it.

Wonderful winter reading

Well, the evenings are drawing in and thoughts are turning to Christmas and what to get for those special people in your life. Over lockdown with more time on my hands, I’ve found several new books that I’ve really enjoyed and would make wonderful presents for those who love adventure, nature and the outdoors. I can thoroughly recommend them all.

Shackleton by Ranulph Fiennes

I love stories of the polar explorers and have read lots about Scott, Wilson and Oates, but I hadn't really turned to Shackleton. I was in a book shop when this caught my eye, especially as it was by Ranulph Fiennes who is a real hero of mine, and it was a signed copy. It was such an absorbing read. I've read most of Ranulph Fiennes' books and he writes in a wonderfully engaging and interesting way, so I really couldn't put it down. Shackleton emerged from the pages as a thoroughly likeable, genial, optimistic raconteur and a wonderful leader, loved by his men, but who was also a little disorganised and not terribly good with money. Most of his endeavours failed, but the story of the heroic, determined journey to rescue his stranded men must rate as one of the greatest of all. I ended up desperately wishing I could have heard him tell some of his stories. Ranulph Fiennes intersperses the story with comparisons and experiences of his own in the Antarctic, all of which enriched the story. A fantastic book about one heroic explorer by another. It inspired me to go on and read South by Shackleton himself, which details the expeditions first hand and is also a fascinating read.

Wild Isles compiled by Patrick Barkham

I've read a lot of nature writings recently, but this satisfyingly thick and heavy book is really beautiful. It's one that I dip in and out of as it's a compendium of lots of different authors; everyone from Dorothy Wordsworth to James Rebanks, There are just a few pages from each author from classic writings, both older and modern, which are divided under headings such as birds, urban nature, islands and coastlines, woodland and farming amongst many others, so you can pick and choose to read about a wide range of rural subjects and it’s a lovely way to experience a broad range of authors and their writings. It also has a wonderful cover by Angela Harding whose work I adore, so it looks tempting before you even open it!

A Year Unfolding: A printmaker's view by Angela Harding

Talking of Angela Harding, her newly published book is absolutely stunning. It's a compilation of all her prints divided seasonally with a little autobiographical paragraph every so often. It's a delightful journey through the year, accompanied by her wonderful depictions of land and seascapes, plants, birds and animals. Just lovely and if you're a fan of her work and a real treat to have all her prints together in one collection. 

Rewild Your Life: Reconnect to Nature over 52 Seasonal Projects by Sarah Stirling

There's a lot of talk and writing about rewilding at the moment, even more so after our long lockdowns and this little book is lovely. It's beautifully, graphically illustrated with lots of ideas, suggestions, projects and practical ideas to reconnect with nature; something I've been really into over the last 18 months and in fact wrote my own book about my nature observations whilst on furlough. Great for engaging kids, but adults are catered for as well.

A Spotter's Guide to Countryside Mysteries by John Wright

I've got a couple of John Wright's books; The Forager's Calendar and A Natural History of the Hedgerow and I really like the way he writes; very chatty and informative but funny too. This book is fascinating and explains all those oddities you might, but probably haven’t, noticed on your walks in all types of environments - woodland, moorland, heath and hill. What are those ridges and furrows in the fields, that clump of twigs in the trees, that odd plant that looks like a cooked prawn? Well, wonder no more. There is a lot of information about fungi as he is a real expert and, as someone who spends a lot of time looking for mushrooms, that was fascinating. It will certainly make me walk with my eyes open a little more in the future, or spout knowledgeably to friends and family.

The Barn by Sally Coulthard

This book has a lovely evocative cover which drew me to it initially, but I do like anything about the history of somewhere or something, and this time it’s a barn in North Yorkshire. Having moved to what is now a smallholding on what was once a larger working farm, she goes back over the history of the farm and its inhabitants whilst always keeping the barn as the focus; its uses, changes, neglect and re-purposing through the decades. She weaves in the history of the people of the area, in particular one family from the nineteenth century who were the farm’s tenants, but also picks out snippets of local news such as the death of a young girl who worked at the farm, goings on at the hiring fairs, changes in the landscape and farming practices, the care of livestock and crops and interestingly about the labourers of those lost or dying skills such as well digging, lime producing, bone crushing and threshing. She also goes into some of the bigger changes and issues of the day that affected everyone and farming irrevocably; the mechanisation of farming chores, the building of the railways, tourism, education and so much more. It’s a little microcosm of social history centred around an ancient barn in North Yorkshire and it’s fascinating.

oOo

It just remains to say that I hope everyone has a wonderful healthy and happy Christmas and let’s hope 2022 is a better one for all of us. Heaven knows we deserve it.

Wide views and Wetlands

After the excitement of completing the Wainwrights, we came back to reality. I came off furlough partially and went back to work at the beginning of August, albeit on reduced hours, and we arranged for my elderly aunt to come and stay as she and my Mum hadn’t seen each other in ages due to Covid.

After four days, Bro and I took her back to Worcestershire. As I had some holiday to use up, we decided to make something of the return journey and booked a night’s stay just outside Great Malvern with a view to climbing the Malvern Hills. We know the area pretty well as our grandparents lived there, and it’s only about 15 miles from my Aunt’s house. We climbed most of the Malvern Hills as kids and teenagers, but have no really clear memories of doing them, so this would be a chance to rectify that. After dropping her off and settling her in, we set off, skirting Worcester and winding up through Great Malvern, arriving at a disused quarry car park in Upper Wyche by about 4pm.

We took a very steep but short path up through the woods and came out on the Three Choir’s Way, just before Summer Hill which we climbed easily and stood admiring the magnificent views. We must have been able to see at least 30 miles in every direction; to the Cotswolds in the east and the Welsh hills to the west. It was one of the most stunning 360 degree panorama I think we’ve ever seen in this country. In the Lakes you don’t usually have such far reaching views as there’s usually a mountain the way, so this was stunning. It was warm and as we climbed down and then up to Worcestershire Beacon, the highest point, it became very windy, but it was very exhilarating. We spent some time sitting enjoying the scenery, then came back down and found a shady spot to brew a hot chocolate.

Time was getting on, so we nipped back down to the car then drove to, and down, Wyche Cutting with its hairpins beds, to our lovely hotel in Colwall where we enjoyed dinner and a comfortable night’s sleep.

Beautiful views to the east from the Beacon

..and to the west

The next morning we set off in good time for a timed entry ticket to Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetlands Centre, which was about 40 miles away, but the journey was easy and pretty traffic free. After queueing for about twenty minutes (it was school holidays), we decided to get a cup of coffee first before everyone started thinking about lunch, and drank it sitting watching some salmon pink Caribbean Flamingos. We then followed a sign that said ‘Summer walking route’ which was lovely because it took us all round the perimeter, away from the crowds. We popped into every bird hide along the route and had wonderful views across the Severn Estuary where there were hundreds of birds.

At the furthermost point, we were almost at the waters edge, walking through the salt marshes and reed beds. A very helpful local gentleman pointed out birds of interest on the marshes and mudflats; Barnacle Geese, a rare Ross's Goose, Shelducks, Herons, Egrets and four huge Crested Storks. It was all so beautiful and quiet.

We retraced our steps, went to the top of the highest hide (about 30 feet high), and walked the rest of the perimeter. Coming back into the middle of the Centre again, families were enjoying picnics surrounded by hundreds of geese, swans and ducks on two huge ponds next to the Visitors Centre, so we took ourselves off to the quieter south lake where we saw Godwits, Shovelers and lots of different geese and ducks. In a brand new covered area, we saw lovely little Avocets, Oystercatchers, Teals and Egrets, marvelled at about four different species of Flamingos, saw otters, harvest mice, dragonflies on their own little pond and spent some time waiting for Kingfishers which sadly didn’t appear.

We wandered literally everywhere in amongst the beautiful grounds bursting with flowers and it really was a fantastic day. We were home after only an hour and a half’s drive, having had a wonderful time in two very different but utterly and equally beautiful places.

The River Severn Estuary mudflats and reed beds

South Lake through the hide window

Pretty Avocets

A Great End on Great End!!

WE DID IT!!!!!

We finished climbing all 214 Wainwright Lakeland mountains on a beautiful still, warm summer’s day on the morning of Monday 26 July 2021, 14 years after we climbed our very first fell, Latrigg, but really in earnest after 9 years as we only climbed four fells between 2007-2012. If you pushed it all into one continuous timeline, it’s taken just under four and a half months! We left Great End until last as it seemed an appropriate place to finish and it really was; we had the summit to ourselves, it was a fantastically perfect morning, and we thought it had some of the best views of any we’ve seen in the whole of the Lake District.

So, we set off from home at the start of a heatwave in the middle of July that didn’t really start to cool down until we’d been away for five days. It was really hot and very humid and we really don’t like hot weather, so we broke the journey to Eskdale with a night just outside Lancaster and a walk beside the River Lune that evening. We then had two nights at the Woolpack Inn in Boot. From the Woolpack, we did a simple two mile walk beside the beautifully clear little RIver Irt that afternoon, then cooled off with a swim in its crystal clear waters.

The next day saw us setting off at 6am for the climb up to Hard Knott via the Roman Fort and sitting on the stunning summit well before 8am. A gentle walk down, crossing the Hard Knott Pass and across a pretty flower strewn common brought us to the base of the very steep climb up Harter Fell which was draining in the rapidly building heat. The strong, cool breeze at the top and all the way back down was wonderfully refreshing.

The next stop was Nether Wasdale for four nights based at the Screes Inn which was comfortable, if warm, with excellent, plentiful food. Setting off at 3.30am the next morning to avoid the worst of the day’s heat and to get a parking space in a very busy Wasdale, we tackled Red Pike and Yewbarrow, watching the sun rise over the Over Beck Valley and having Red Pike to ourselves at 6am. Yewbarrow’s flanking path was a little tricky in places, but once on the summit, the views of the Wasdale giants were magnificent, as was the view over Pillar and down Wast Water. We were back at the car cooling our feet in the beck by 10.30am just as the heat of the day was building.

After a day off, we set off again at 3.30am (we really enjoyed walking at this time and it was warm enough for just a Tshirt and so lovely to see the sunrise), this time up the Nether Beck Valley from Wasdale. It was a much longer walk to the head of the valley but the pink sunrise ahead of us was stunning. A stiff climb saw us at the top of Scoat Fell, watching the sunrise turn peachy gold over Kirk Fell, which was so beautiful. We carried on to Steeple with its beautiful views down Ennerdale, then took the easy path down and back up to Haycock, which, in the beautiful weather, was so lovely and quiet with fabulously clear views. Our final point was Caw in the distance, although it was an easy walk and the summit was flat, warm and quiet. We then took a flanking path all the way back to the rim of the Nether Beck Valley, pushing down through the bracken to the valley bottom and walked back to the car. This had been a long walk, about 10 miles, but the weather had finally broken so it was warm without the humidity, which was perfect walking weather and such a relief. We hadn’t seen another person all day.

We then left Wasdale and headed round to Keswick and Borrowdale, to the Glaramara Hotel in Seatoller for our final walk and final summit. We’d had some Tshirts made with a a graphic Bro had designed, and we had a half bottle of Champagne to take with us for the summit. We filmed our preparations leading up to leaving our hotel room, then the journey to Seathwaite Farm and shots of each of us climbing little sections all the way up. Again, it was a lovely day with clear skies, sunshine and no cloud. The pull up the valley beside Ruddy Gill was warm as it began to get a little hotter, but at Esk Hause there was a lovely cool breeze. There were lots of people toiling past on their way to Scafell Pike, so we were pleased to be branching off to Great End, which we had to ourselves.

We filmed ourselves walking towards the summit and touching it at the same time. It was an overwhelming moment and we were both a little emotional - perhaps tiredness, relief, delight, sadness or a mixture of all of them, but it felt strange to think this was officially our last mountain. We spent a long time on the summit, soaking in the views, toasting Alfred Wainwright, remembering our dogs, taking photos and video and finishing the Champagne! After about an hour and a half, some sandwiches and water, we set off on the long descent back to the hotel where were enjoyed a cool shower, celebratory drinks, a delicious meal and hearty congratulations from the staff and some of the other guests we’d got talking to.

We are immensely pleased and chuffed and delighted to have completed this amazing challenge together. It’s been a joy from start to finish and something we’re incredibly proud to say we’ve done. I’m not sure what we’re going to do with ourselves now as it’s been such a big part of our lives for so long, but our next holiday will definitely be something completely different (and a little more relaxing!), then we might start exploring the Yorkshire Dales, Wales, Scotland and Northumberland. We will always make return visits to our beloved Lakes and we might even climb something, just for old times sake!

Letting the train take the strain

As we clicked over into June, we had 8 Wainwright fells to climb in order to complete the 214 challenge. We had moved our two pub and one hotel stays three times over a 16 month period and they were now fixed for going in mid July all being well, so being still on furlough, Bro and I thought we could squeeze in a few days away and we decided to go to the Lakes for three nights using the train for the first time.

We planned to climb Pike o'Stickle and Loft Crag in Langdale and Baystones from Ambleside. In the early stages of starting climbing the 214, we had a very large, strong dog with us and back when we did the Langdale Pikes and Pavey Ark in 2014, we felt it was a little too much for him and us, to get him up the very last rocky sections of Loft Pike and Pike o’Stickle, so Bro and I were going back to re-climb them fully as we have now sadly lost both our dogs. We booked into the New Dungeon Ghyll for two nights and the newly refurbished Ambleside Inn for one night and planned to get around by bus.​

All the arrangements worked incredibly smoothly. We changed once in Manchester and caught the bus from Windermere within 20 minutes of getting off the train and that bus dropped us right outside the New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel.

The next morning we set off from the Stickle Ghyll path behind the hotel. Reaching the Cumbria Way, we decided not to cross Dungeon Ghyll, but to carry on and follow a path that wound under, round and up to Pike How. This put us on the 'wrong' side of Dungeon Ghyll, but we gained height quickly and it seemed to be marginally less steep. As we walked the ridge with the huge bulk of Harrison Stickle in front us, the cloud came down and there was a light drizzle, although it was still warm. The path climbed steeply beside the huge, deep ravine of Dungeon Ghyll to a small col and at the col, the path became much narrower with big drops into the ravine to our left. The cloud came right down, we could only see about 10 feet ahead and the rock became very wet and slippery. Not really being comfortable with drops at the side of slippery paths, we decided to re-trace our steps back down to the col, then branched across the flank at the top of the ravine and climbed up and onto the ridge below the start of the climb to Loft Crag.

Although it had entailed a bit more climbing, it really only took us about 20 minutes. A very steep path up to the col between Thorn Crag and Loft Crag brought us out onto Harrison Combe where we took a path up to the summit of Loft Crag. The views were amazing. We took some photos, lingered a while then headed off towards Pike o'Stickle. There was no discernible path up its rocky top and it entailed a bit of a hands on scramble, but it was good fun and the views at the top were stunning; down into Mickelden, across to Glaramara with Skiddaw to the north and Windermere to the south. It was warm, sunny and quite busy.

pike o’stickle’s rocky top from loft crag, the figures on the top give a sense of scale

Coming back down again, we had lunch watching people tackling the very steep path up to Harrison Stickle, then made our way back to the col and began picking our way down again. We took the same route on the way back; crossing the trickling Dungeon Ghyll and re-joining our ascent path up from Pike How. As the sun was shining and it was very warm, we made a slight detour to Pike How's summit and sat enjoying the gorgeous valley views for half an hour before going back down to the hotel.

The next day we took the bus into Ambleside, dropped our surplus bag off at the hotel and set off straight away for Wansfell as we were already in our walking kit and boots. The climb began immediately and I'd forgotten just how steep it was. We'd last been up in 2012 and Bro had also been up again on his own in 2018 when our second dog was very poorly and that time, he’d had also gone on along the ridge to Baystones, which is the Wainwright summit and not something I think we’d realised back in 2012 when we were just starting out in earnest, so I hadn’t done it. He wasn't overjoyed at tackling the climb for a third time, but that's brotherly love for you I guess!

It was very humid and the climb seemed to go on and on but it was much cooler once we reached Wansfell’s summit and the views north over Ambleside and south over Windermere were just stunning. After pausing for a drink, some photos and enjoying the views in the cool breeze, we set off along the very undulating ridge towards Baystones, which looked a fair way on, but was very straightforward. No one else followed us even though there were quite a few people about.

It was a fairly uneventful walk with some gentle ups and downs, but nothing strenuous. The cloud came down as we were on the summit, but we did have wonderful views of the Troutbeck valley, the Kirkstone Pass and Red Screes before the mist and light rain saw us donning waterproofs and heading back. It was much quicker on the way back as we found a path that ran more along the ridge tops and even after a sandwich stop, took us no time at all. The weather improved as we began the descent and we emerged back into the sun and humidity of the valley bottom again, where a cool drink at the Ambleside Inn was very welcome.

It had been a very enjoyable and interesting few days and left us with just four more walks to finish the challenge!

Beautiful langdale from pike how

ambleside from the climb to wansfell

A Lakeland Spring

We’ve been lucky, very lucky and it was so good to be back in the Lakes again after 7 months away.

We had a week’s self catering booked from last year which we moved to last week, and which was able to go ahead under the covid easing regulations. We stayed in a small three bedroom semi detached house in Portinscale that was beautifully comfortable, in the perfect location, and we ate there every evening. We had one coffee out in the whole week.

The weather was amazing, as the week before ours had seen quite a heavy snowfall, but we had no rain (other than one evening), the snow had gone, it was warm enough for a fleece without a coat and there was virtually no wind. We did have one walk with very strong gusts of wind that made us stagger sideways but other than that, it was mild and warm with one or two overcast days, making the perfect walking weather.

At the start of the week, we had 12 Wainwright summits left to climb to finish the challenge. The plan was to tackle 3 of them from Borrowdale and 1 from Ullswater, leaving the last 8 in Wasdale for later in the year hopefully.

The first walk was The Nab from Patterdale and Boredale Hause on a blustery day, but it was a good walk to get ourselves hill fit again and we managed 9 miles and nearly 3000 feet of overall climbing, but the wind picked up on the return and was incredibly strong around Angle Tarn, but exhilarating.

The second walk was Kirk Fell and we took the Hoister Rambler bus from just outside our house up to Honister Slate Mine and climbed up the mine path heading across the flanks of Grey Knotts and Brandreth to Moses Trod. The sun was out, it was warm and still and we only saw 5 people all day. The views down Buttermere and Ennerdale were spectacular. Once at Beck Head, with Great Gable for company, we climbed the steepish, scrambly rock path up the side of Kirk Fell onto the summit plateau where there was still a fair way to go to the summit, but it was easy walking and the views of the Scafells and Wasdale were magnificent.

Walk three was Rosthwaite Fell, one Bro had done before on his own when we had a sick dog to look after, but he generously came back up with me. The views down Borrowdale to Skiddaw were beautiful, but it was a steep climb, although not that lengthy, and much cooler on the top where we realised we were almost at the central point of the Lake District. It was amazing to be able to spin round 360 degrees and realise we’d climbed everything in sight, as well as most of the ridges and valleys.

The last walk was Esk Pike from Seathwaite. We arrived early and parked easily and courteously at the side of the farmer’s road and took the path straight up to the head of the Grains Valley to Esk Hause, following first Grains Gill, then Ruddy Gill. As we gained height, we walked into the low lying cloud which, unfortunately, didn’t lift at all, but it made a wonderfully atmospheric walk up past the enormous ravine of Ruddy Gill, which was very dramatic. The pitched path was very easy to walk on and you didn’t really notice the steepness of the route. At Esk Hause, it was such a shame we couldn’t see the views, but the final pull up to Esk PIke’s summit was very straightforward and we arrived on the top at mid morning. It was very warm and still with not a breath of wind (we’ve read that the wind can be fearsomely strong up there), so we had a drink, took some photos of each other, then made our way back down again. The cloud began to lift as we got lower and we had lovely views of the valley ahead.

All in all, it was a fantastic week and a real privilege to be back. Everywhere was incredibly quiet as the hotels hadn’t opened, people were friendly and the weather had been kind to us. Just the tonic we needed.

Hygge

I’ve been reading a lovely uplifting book called the Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking. Apparently, the Danish are the happiest people on earth and a great proportion of that happiness is due to Hygge.

Hygge is one of those words that is hard to translate; a single word that seems to encompass lots of things; a sentence in a word. I think the Chinese and Japanese have similar sentiments in some of their characters. We don’t seem to have it in English so much; the closest I can think is cosiness.

Hygge is the feeling of comfort and warmth and contentment you get from wrapping up in a blanket in front of an open fire with a few friends, a warm drink, a thick jumper, cake, a book and a sense of peace. It seems to help if the weather is cold, wet, stormy or wintery, but hygge can be experienced in the summer months too.

Hygge can apply to anything warm and cosy. Lighting, candles, firesides, food, drink, clothing, good books, board games, small groups of friends. The Danes, according to Meik Wiking, use hygge as both a verb and a noun, so something like a wool jumper can be a hygge-jumper or you could ask someone to come round for some hygge time. It seems to be more a way of life that’s simple, clean, casual, rustic and non technological, but in a really lovely way. Taking your time, slowing things down, watching, listening, sitting.

No bragging, not materialistic, no one trying to outdo anyone else, not having the latest gizmo or gadget, just simple, old fashioned warmth and companionship. It is also about nature and bringing that into the home; greenery, pine cones, conkers and the like; grounding us I suppose. In summer, it would be the act of gathering friends and family at the end of a day’s activities for a simple supper, barbecue or picnic. Christmas by its very nature is the ultimate hygge time with gift giving, family, traditions and decorations playing starring roles.

The acts of baking together, playing a simple game, sitting by the fire, watching the stars, all in the name of relaxation and restoration. A time for adults to perhaps do things just for fun, rather than have an outcome or end result from doing or completing a task. Just a simple way to live well and happily. We could all learn a lot from them.

The Danish also have the concept of Lykke which is simply happiness and the way to try and live a happier life. The Danes are a very sociable nation and it is this feeling of togetherness and community that will promote greater happiness.

“Scandi” style is very on trend at the moment and they have given us clean lines, wonderful design, superb quality, minimalism and functionality with beauty, lightness and simplicity in furniture, furnishings, textiles and clothing, but I think their concepts of hygge and lykke and finding happiness are far more valuable to us all than anything else.

A Feast for the Senses

Connecting, or reconnecting for some, with nature is such a boon to our health and wellbeing. In these altered times when mental and physical heath are at the forefront of our minds, nature’s role in playing a major role cannot be underestimated.

I have found, as many I have spoken to have, that this lockdown has been harder; perhaps because of the winter weather, the frustration of not knowing how long it would go on for, or perhaps just a year of negative news, who knows, but walking locally every day has really helped clear my head when it felt fuzzy and woolly from being indoors too much and has in turn helped with my physical fitness too.

I have always loved being outside and in nature, but perhaps because I’ve had more time to walk; dawdle even, walking the same few local routes over and over again whilst trying to make them all a little different and really take notice of what’s around me, has meant a real appreciation of nature, its benefits, the memories it evokes and the comfort you can derive from those memories. A feast for the senses if you like.

SIGHT

The spring flowers are now everywhere in full force. Delicate pink and white blossom, lovely cheery daffodils, sweet little grape hyacinths, tiny wood violets, celandines and a few early tulips. Buds, shoots, berries and new green leaves are appearing everywhere. We have a west facing garden and have had some stunning sunsets this year and I spend a lot of time looking at the clouds which are really beautiful. We’ve found a field that has a proper old hedgerow running along the length of it, and it’s full of goldfinches, and I mean clouds of them. It’s lovely to sit and watch them flitting about like little embers on the breeze. Watching the birds on the feeders in the garden has been lovely and a flock of Redwings one Sunday was a real treat. We also have four resident Red Kites that glide overhead most of the time and they really are such beautiful birds.

SMELL

There’s a path we walk daily, across which the most gorgeous soft flowery scent wafts and I can never tell where it’s coming from but I love it. We stop and say hello to horses in the local fields and their comforting smell takes me back to my pony mad teens, working at the local riding stables. I love the smell of woodsmoke, pine woods (I have a pine scented candle on my desk that takes me straight to Christmas Day), the smell of a bluebell wood and the pungent and mouth watering wild garlic.

SOUND

I have really, genuinely found pleasure in birdsong this last year, perhaps because I’ve really listened, or maybe there’s less traffic so I can hear more clearly. To wake up to the sound of a robin in the tree outside my bedroom window instead of the shrillness of an alarm has been wonderful. We have seagulls overhead (even though we’re an hour from the coast) but the sound is so reminiscent of childhood summer holidays. The soft call of the wood pigeon instantly transports me back to my Granny’s house, my favourite skylarks (a wonderful discovery in a local field) takes me back to summer days on the high hills in my beloved and much missed Lake District. Geese honking to each other as they fly always reminds me of the end of summer and crows cawing, of midwinter.

TASTE

I remember sucking on a dead nettle flower as a kid to get that tiny hit of sweetness on my tongue and chewing the end of sweet, new grass. I’ve made nettle tea, used wild garlic in cooking, made crabapple jelly and damson jam from the garden trees and grow any number of herbs that I use in meals and drinks. We collected bags of juicy blackberries and fallen apples from the woods in the autumn and had lots of lovely hot winter puddings.

TOUCH

I’m always poking and prodding things on walks and picking things up; gnarled bark, soft moss, new leaves, sheep’s wool caught on a wire fence, smooth stones, twigs, pine cones, acorns, conkers, sweet chestnuts - all manner of things that are so tactile I can’t leave them alone. In the same way, I can’t resist stroking every dog or horse I meet or every cat arching its back to me on a wall.

The next time you’re out, it’s really worth looking around you with all your senses and taking pleasure and comfort in those smaller things that get us through the bigger things.

Social Distancing Lakeland style

Still being on furlough, but with lockdown slightly easing, we took a trip to the Lakes that had been moved from our original March date. Some trepidation preceded the trip; would we go, should we go, how would it work, would it be safe enough, but we were reassured by guidelines emailed from the hotels about the check in procedures, cleaning methods and social distancing measures they had put in place.

Once we arrived, the staff were all fantastic as were their systems for keeping everyone safe. Rooms are now not cleaned every day (which I really don’t mind at all), one way systems, masks, sanitiser and tables thinned and spaced out in the bars and restaurants with table service. A huge thanks and appreciation go to all of them - one lady admitted they were all exhausted after an extremely busy summer.

Wast Water from the descent of Lingmell

We’ve heard about the National Parks experiencing huge volumes of people who might otherwise have gone abroad for their summer holidays and some of those people behaved disrespectfully and thoughtlessly with tons of rubbish being left everywhere, barbecues smouldering (we saw evidence of burnt patches of grass in several places), trees being cut down, walls damaged, gates left open and more. We met a wonderful lady called Lindsay Buck on the climb up to Scafell Pike who calls herself the #WasdaleWomble; she’s climbed Scafell Pike voluntarily over 140 times to litter pick. Have a look at her Just Giving page as she’s raising money for Wasdale Mountain Rescue. A real life wonder woman.

Mosedale dwarfing the Wasdale Head Inn. From Lingmell

So now that we’re in Autumn, things seem to have calmed down a little and may be returning to a sort of normal, with only avid walkers braving the heights and elements. We based ourselves in Wasdale for the bulk of the time we were there, which in itself is fairly off the beaten track. We stayed at the wonderful, historic and iconic Wasdale Head Inn, somewhere we’ve only visited before for food and drink, and it was fantastic.

Full of the history of the pioneering days of British rock climbing, with the Abraham Brothers’ photos covering every wall, it has such a special atmosphere. You’re also surrounded by all the giants of Lakeland, so the scenery is truly magnificent and it’s very easy to social distance here! We climbed Scafell, Slight Side, Scafell Pike, Lingmell and Pillar while in the valley and Allen Crags and Rossett Pike in Langdale with varying weather conditions from warm and sunny to utterly freezing with high wind, sleet and torrential rain, but it really cleared away the cobwebs and we only ever met three or four people all day.

The lobby of the Wasdale Head Inn

We are so grateful to have been able to visit the Lakes in these difficult times, but it really has helped to recharge and rejuvenate us for the coming months ahead when we could possibly end up facing another lockdown, but here’s hoping and praying this all ends soon for all of us.

Mickleden from the descent of Rossett Pike

Pinpricks of light in dark times

Who’d have thought we’d still be in lockdown albeit now it’s gradually beginning to ease? For us, a simple pleasure is that we can now visit local coffee shops as part of a walk which was something we really missed doing. I am still a furloughed worker, but I have been keeping busy and I had a think about those things personal to me that have given me simple pleasure during these dark times.

Exploring our home area

Exploring within 10 miles of home

the secret bluebell wood

I know this has been the topic of lots of posts and tweets, but it’s true. Walking dogs in our area over the past 20 years has meant we’ve done most of the immediate and middle ground around home, so we’ve stretched out a little further as we were allowed to, and walked for ten miles or so. We found some beautiful little places and took paths we’d never tried. A tiny bluebell wood in full bloom tucked away at the back of two fields in a little hollow that we had all to ourselves in May was the highlight.

Walking on the golf course

A privilege to be allowed to walk here

Our county golf course is only a ten minute walk from us, but obviously has been off limits to the general public ever since I’ve known it, except for one tiny stretch that we always hurried across in case we were hit by fast moving balls. They very kindly opened it up in April for about six weeks to local people and it was an absolute delight. Stunningly beautiful, quiet, filled with flowering trees and wild flowers, long valleys and some pretty views, it was a total pleasure especially early in the morning. I was quite happy wandering there alone or with my brother. with a full perimeter walk being about three and a half miles. We could also make the walks longer, knowing we could cut back across the course, instead of negotiating a long stretch on a narrow but busy road. I was genuinely upset when they closed it again for the golfers.

Birds and Butterflies

one of the jays living in our oak tree

stunning peacock butterfly

Aside from the gorgeous birdsong greeting me each morning with my window thrown wide open, we’ve spent more time watching the birds in the garden. We have several feeders and it’s lovely to see all sorts of birds, some of which have become quite tame. We had a lovely little Blue Tit family in our bird box we were lucky enough to see as they fledged and blundered about loudly in the trees for the first time. We had Jays nesting in our oak tree and a family of squirrels, three of which are still in the garden each day. We have a large number of Red Kites that float overhead and do occasionally swoop down into the garden if they think they spot something. Dunnocks, Long Tail Tits, Nuthatches, Goldfinches, a pair of ducks that came at the same time every day for three weeks, a party of really tame white pigeons, a gang of Jackdaws and many more and it’s been lovely. We also have a huge Buddleia bush which has been filled with butterflies and it’s so lovely to watch them feeding.

oOo

I realise many people have had terrible, grief stricken, stressful and worrying times or put themselves at risk to help others over the last months and my sympathies go out to them, their families and friends, but let’s hope there is light and better times at the end of the tunnel for us all. And soon.

Looking forward

As lockdown leeches into a third month now, I am still on furlough until further notice. I have been using the time productively and, amongst lots of other things, one of the jobs that I have being doing is sorting and editing photos. I have also completely re-vamped and refreshed this website, adding an orientation section to some of the national parks in the UK.

All of this has meant trawling through hundreds, if not thousands, of photos and hundreds of those are of the Lake District. It’s all made me fairly “homesick”, and I thought I’d address that by listing some of the places we’ll be visiting as soon as we’re allowed back out properly and safely.

1. Buttermere

Our absolute favourite valley and favourite place to walk. In Wainwright terms, we’ve climbed everything around the valley except for Hopegill Head, but we will be back to walk round Buttermere itself and just enjoy the village, the atmosphere and scenery.

Buttermere Valley from Fleetwith Pike

2. Glenridding

I adore this village and the whole Patterdale area in general. Ullswater is stunning and the Ullswater Way is another plan once we’ve finished climbing the Wainwrights. I love the fact you can get up high and enjoy the views with very little effort.

Glenridding from Birks

3. Wasdale

Almost half of the 28 Wainwrights we have left to climb are in Wasdale, so we’ll be spending a couple of weeks in this beautiful valley eventually. It’s very remoteness is what appeals, and it really feels as though you’re in ‘proper’ mountain country here, surrounded as you are by all the highest fells.

Wast Water

4. Thirlmere

I’ve just read an article by Bill Birkett as he explored the eastern shore of Thirlmere and the surprising amount of things of interest there. We have done bits of it, but I’d like to walk it completely. It’s such a lovely quiet, perhaps slightly unterrated place and the views are stunning.

The Thirlmere valley from Brown Cove

5. Ennerdale

This is an area we really haven’t been to but we’ve looked down on Ennerdale Water from several of the high fells that surround it. I’d like to explore the circuit of the lake and revel in the peace and quiet that its remoteness offers. No roads round the lake helps!

Ennerdale

Until such time though, I’ll have to content myself with looking at photos and I also have Terry Abraham’s DVDs of Scafell Pike and Blencathra which will help, but in the meantime, stay safe and well and keep focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel.

Pastures New

So, lockdown continues apace, although after this weekend, there might be announcements of slight easing. Let’s hope and pray this is the beginning of the end of the worst of it.

As part of daily exercise, Bro and I have been getting out from home and it’s been really quite surprisingly good. Within about half a mile we can be in pastoral, rural farmland and not see a soul. It’s been stimulating to explore new paths, revisit areas we haven’t walked to for ages and get a little creative with where to go, so it doesn’t become stale. The weather has been utterly amazing too which has really helped.

Our county golf course also generously opened up to walkers and runners and, luckily for us, the clubhouse is a mere ten minute walk away from home. The golf course is absolutely stunning with beautiful trees, woodland, bluebells and some nifty hills to get the heart rate up and maintain some hill fitness.

I thought I’d share some phone photos of the local walks and new places discovered on the doorstep.

Local rural farmland

Beautiful in the warm sun

Early morning light on the golf course

A bluebell wood hidden away and found by chance. We had it all to ourselves!

Revisiting paths we hadn’t walked for a while

Walking on the golf course

The golf course - just beautiful

Stunning May blossom

Our local pond

I hope you all keep safe and well; thanks and gratitude go as always to front line and key workers, and let’s hope this wretched virus is slowly on the way out, so that we all can be too.