July 08, Rosthwaite to Keswick (pronounced Kessick)

I could not believe that this mornng's walk would begin with this!  Even though leaping from stone to stone (and a couple in the middle were submerged) is some people's idea of great fun.  It is not mine!

 

Fortunately, there was a bridge a bit farther on.  

Red squirrel up on a pedestal:

The walk today was not difficult, maybe slightly dull, but every day cannot be a thrill, but when you get right down to it, there were some lovely views:

Some sections were so boggy that these boardwalks were constructed:

Very nice!  Very nice, indeed!

Alpaca or a pony with a very long neck:

The highlight was Derwentwater, the lake on which Keswick is located.

Snack spot:

I arrived in town way too early to even think of going to the hotel, so I looked up "a very pleasant walk" about four miles, and decided to tour the area that way.  The first loop was awful!  You schlepped for blocks only to end up at a campsite full of tiny tents and a huge parking lot.  Since this is a bustling little town, I walked around, got an cherry ice cream, absolutely delicious, did the Daf, Connections and the Spelling Bee, walked around some more, strolled through a park that is on the lake: 

Busy lakefront for fowl:

And people and their dog:

Helicopter advertising the NHS ambulance rescue service:

You have been warned.....again!

Whilst meandering, I was checking the tracker, and as soon as it indicated that my suitcase had  arrived at the hotel, I headed on over to change from boots to sneakers and from back pack to light pack.  At 3:00 on the dot I returned to check in and what a happy moment that was.  The room is gorgeous and comfortable with huge windows that open and a fan on a stand.  And eight minutes away is a Booths where I bought some tasty supplies for dinner and a plum bread and butter for snacks. They even had San Pellegrino Limonata, my beverage of choice I gotta say, pretty nice day over all!

July 07 Great Langdale to Rosthwaite

I confess, I was worried about this stage (even though it was only 10 miles) because of the notorious zig-zag descent.  Every publication talks about it.  ChatGPT with whom I chatted, as one does, suggested, as a tactic, an early start time, 8:00 or 9:00 a.m.  Imagining being stuck between boulders, hanging onto tree branches for stability and other horrors, I made sure to set out at 5:00 a.m. — so that no matter how slow I was, no one would be behind me trying to pass where you could not pass.  It turned out that the infamous descent was the easiest part of the entire walk!  Let's start there.  First, it does not zig-zag exactly, it is called The Snake Trail or something like that, because it is shaped like a long, slithering serpent.  The surface was small stones, so yeah, you want to go slow, but it was not treacherous or even particularly difficult.

Ascent and descent 1400 feet of each, or, to be precise, 1398 up and 1402 down.  The ascent was was about the first third.  It was one of those ascents that as you are climbing, you are thinking, "OMG, I hope the descent is not like this." (See above; it wasn't).  It was boulder-y and well, rocky in every way a mountain trail can be rocky.  Then there were these stream crossings THAT I HATE.  And not only were there many many of them, the water was flowing very fast.  Why that makes it worse, I don't know.  How I managed all the crossings, I don't know either.  Sometimes I went up or downstream looking for a narrower place to leap, sometimes I found one, sometimes I didn't. And the ground was boggy.  Very very boggy, so you had to be careful of that.

When the route leveled off, it was worse!!  Bogs and streams and more crossings, and sometimes a stream was actually the path—thank God it had not rained a ton lately—Let me just say that I don't know if I ever had to concentrate harder on a walk than I did today.  You (I) had to watch every single step.  

¡Esto no me gusta!

The scenery was, uhhh, rugged:

Back to those navigational horrors:

A change of topic for a minute and on to the weather.  At first it was ferociously windy, so that was something to worry about because I thought that way up high, the wind would be unbearable, but eventually, the wind died down.  It was grey, and misty, and looked like rain, only, baruch haShem, it did not rain.  It was cool, a plus.  Honestly, I hardly paid any attention to the scenery, I was looking at the ground the whole time, calculating where to step.

Not many trees.  This one, like one several days ago, seemed to invite a critter to make a home:

¡Esto, sí me gusta!!

But honestly, the only one like that.


People, yonder, camping in this wilderness!

At the apex of the ascent a cairn and sheep.

One scenery shot:

It was not a good day to take pictures, and I was not especially disposed, so there are very few.  Near the end, I did meet some people who were going in the other direction,...first there were groups of teenagers, who scampered like billy goats, and playing music as they went. Then there were a couple of women who were having a snack; we had quite a chat.  One of them told me that someone she knew fell while in a stream, hit her dead and died.  

It took seven hours to complete the stage, super slow, but having emerged unscathed, I would say that is an accomplishment.  Arriving at the hotel at noon, I could not, of course check in, but I could get a ginger beer for $6.02!  And then spend forever trying to connect to the wi-fi, which I knew ahead of time would be a problem. 

All there is in Rosthwaite are a few hotels and some houses, but it is stop for The Coast to Coast as well as the Cumbria Way, and a good place to come if you have a car and like to hike and don't need a grocery store!  

The Royal Oak is a lovely hotel!  I thought they served lunch, but they don't.   Waiting for dinner until 6:00 is tough when all you have had to eat are grapes and an apple, but the food is reputed to be excellent, otherwise I just would have eaten the second half of yesterday's cheese and pickle sandwich and called it a day!

Just to note, it is amazing how exhausting a major expenditure of mental energy can be.  The physical aspect of the walk was hardly nothing, but the focus and concentration were consuming.  It made me think about Alex Honnold, the guy who free soloed El Capitan and had spent years planning every foot and hand placement.  

According to my watch, I have hardly done a thing all day, so no reason to feel as if I climbed mountains (only one).

 

July 06, Coniston to Great Langdale

At 5:03 I was out the door, dressed in rain gear—not because it was raining (it wasn't) but it was supposed to rain, so why not use the rain jacket as a "layer?"  Not only did it NOT rain for the first time in days, the weather was gorgeous, the scenery was spectacular, and the elevation, about which I had worried quite a bit, was manageable, most likely because the air quality was really good!  Anyway, it was an exquisite, spectacular stage in every respect.

I have deleted a lot of photos of the scenery because they just don't make the cut!

But here are a couple:

AND view from bench where mid morning, that being 9:00 a.m, snack was consumed and enjoyed:

(Or should that be enjoyed and consumed?  Kind of like,"You can't have your cake and eat it, too, which really works better if you say, "You can't eat your cake and have it, too."  Or maybe it does not make a difference!)

Three new friends.  

Stripe-ee:

Brown-ee:

Snuff-ee: 

I am sure his mama loves him very much!

My style of stile (side a):

Yes, they should all be like this! (side b):

High end bridge:

Tree...roots?

There were several groups of high school kids doing the Duke Of Edinburgh Challenge, which is a scouting sort of thing that has several levels.  This one involves something like 5 days of backpacking.

Jolly good!!

AND they navigate using MAPS, would you believe?

Officially, one was supposed to stay on the road:

But I took a gamble on the narrow track.  It paid off!  But you never know with these things.  There could be a locked gate at the other end, only there wasn't.  Then, about a mile or so from the hotel, I chose the low road through pastures instead of the high (official) road.  The app kept yelling at me, "You are 150 feet away from the route.  You are 200 feet away from the route........" but sometimes you just have to assert your independence.  Since I arrived around noon, I had plenty of time to take another walk, so I went back to the turn off and did the official high route back to the Old Dungeon Inn.  I am so glad I did! In addition to the enjoyment, it allowed to to figure out where to start tomorrow.

The hotel is simple, the room is small, but it is bright, clean, has a window that opens as much as you want, a place to put everything, and most important, a nice hotel employee, carried my suitcase up the three flights of stairs to my room and promised to do the reverse to-morrow after I left. 

July 05 Coniston and Brantwood

 In an effort to maximize enjoyment and ease the effort, I may have overdone it with the "circular walk" add-ons.  Today, for example, since I did not want to do the classic Coniston climb, I opted for an out and back along the lake.  It was fine. When I got to the turn around point, I was just getting to the best part and was tempted to walk all the way back to Lowick, so I checked the bus schedule to see if I could get back to Coniston, and, had it not been Sunday, I could have done just that, but today IS Sunday, which, it seems, is the busman's holiday.  So that was that. 

I turned around and a couple of hours later, as I was nearing Coniston, I realized I could toodle on over the pier whence the ferry goes to Brantwood.  I approached the guy in the ticket booth. Waving his hand, he said, "Speak to those chaps over there."  Over I went and spoke to "those chaps."  "Well, there isn't a direct run today; you will have to circe the entire lake and we will drop you off on the way back." "How long does that take?" About 45 minutes to an hour."  "And when does the next boat leave?"  "About two minutes ago!" Their being late was my good fortune, so I paid the ferry man, and went for the ride (thank God, not to Hades), disembarking at Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin for the last twenty or so years of his life.  Truth be told, and I don't know why, I am just not interested in Ruskin though he did have the saddest love life ever, but in case you crave to know more about the man just clink on that link and you will have all the references anyone would want.

First, though, the grey, drizzly morning.

The rain is why they have such delicious grass:

Boats waiting:

Perfect spot for a 9:00 a.m. pick-me-up:

Except no sooner did I sit down than it started to rain....again.

You look that way, and we'll look this way:

OK, it's safe!

When I reached the A325 or whichever A road it was, it was time to turn around:

toward Coniston, and then on to the Brantwood segment,

After embarking, the tour around the lake narrated by the dude who ties and unties the boat at each pier and whose narration was one loud incomprehensible blur, and disembarking at Brantwood, it was time to visit the loo.

I can say with full confidence that Brantwood offers facilities superior to those of the woods:

The house was lovely.  It really felt like a home, had beautiful views, attractive wall papers, handsome rugs....yet was not overdone, but since it is now a museum of sorts, not all the rooms were fully furnished.  Yet it was easy to imagine people living in the house.

There was a grand piano, which, if you get permission ahead of time, you are invited to play:

That would make Alex Allain's day!

Bible with jewel encrusted cover:

Ruskin had an extensive mineral collection:

Needlepoint:

There was some exquisite embroidery, too. Those pieces and the views did not photograph well, so you will just have to take my word!

Most of the gardens were extensive woodlands on slippery paths, but there were some flowers:

A place to sit:

It seems that a lot of people come to the property—you can drive there, too, and you can walk, but it is an awful walk on major roadways an hour in each direction—to have lunch and enjoy the scenery.  The cafe is first rate!  I had a bowl of carrot soup, which was not only well seasoned, but was served hot!

Critters—not at Brantwood, which is too refined for such gluttony, eating a plenty due to their being fed by a passerby:

I will not be sorry to leave Coniston.  The town and the Inn are a bit dreary, although the room I am in has a decent shower and a frig, but the wi-fi keeps going out, the bed and pillows are not comfy. There is nothing at all pleasant about the accommodation.  Utterly cheerless sums it up pretty well!  But wait!  There is a heated towel bar in the bathroom that works (socks dried in a jiffy), so I guess the place is worth the price. (It was a big price!)

Addendum:  Remember the other day I mentioned Cohens Pharmacy and thought Mr. Cohen was a Jew from Ulverston?  Well, no!  The concern is owned by two Muslim brothers from Kenya, who own  more than 200 pharmacies—or chemists— in the UK, all named Cohens!!  My head is spinning! I simply have to give a listen to  Minyan Man 

July 04, Coniston walk

There is nothing like having to make a choice about how to flush the toilet!  I really get a kick out of this instruction.  Whether to obey or not to obey is a whole other matter.

 

There are lots of walks around Coniston, but about 90% of them are entered around a rock formation called "The Old Man of Coniston;" the routes just vary in terms of length.  All involve a long, steep, rocky climb, and I just didn't feel like it in the rain.  Actually, I didn't feel like it even had it not been raining.  Rocks are not my favorite kind of scenery.  Anyway, I found a lovely walk that was a figure eight kind of thing that passed through beautiful countryside..

This photo requires some contemplation and consideration.  We see, on the left,  a baby slug—or a snail minus its shell (but isn't that what a slug is?) cozied up on a foxglove petal, lying next to what seems to be a giant slug but is—I am quite sure—a big stick that looks like a giant slug.  So I am wondering, what is that baby thinking?

As I approached these two beasties, seeing as they did not move, I thought, "Maybe they are not real," like that cat from the other day:

But they were!

It rained, then it didn't then it did, but not very hard, and it blew, and it was misty and foggy:

And yet the air was very heavy.

One problem with rain is that it makes sticks and stones very slippery.  Por ejemplo, tree roots, such as these, especially on the downhill,  require extremely careful footwork.

The top part of the figure 8 was a tour around a lake:

Ahh, this is the life if you are a goose:

Tree down!  Detour required!

The thing is, they don't WANT to be on the path...do they?

I met this merry band of revelers as I was headed down and they were going up!  Were they enacting A Midsummer Night's Dream?  Was this the local version of Bay to Breakers?  They were celebrating the upcoming wedding of the guy dressed as a donkey (he asked to have his head patted) and having a rollicking good time!

After getting back to town and making the rounds of the three, yes, three grocers—the Spar has competition—all of which sell just about the same stuff, all replicas of 7-Elevens, and within about a block of each other, and then having something to eat, I went out for another walk, this time along the lake.  

It was 60 degrees and a girl was swimming!  The water was also about 60 degrees!  (I looked it up!)  That is crazy!

Just for the record, according to my Apple watch, I am hardly doing anything these days! What?  It does not measure exertion, or if it does, then I am being cheated.  You schlep around all day in heavy hiking boots, up and down hills, skirting tree roots and nasty rocks, mud and bog, thick wet grass, in 90% humidity (I looked that up, too) and see if you feel as if you did nothing all day!