Me and Mike from Go4awalk camped at Hollins Farm in Eskdale for three sunny day walks in the South Lakes.
Walk Number One on Thursday 16th April started in Miterdale. Not many people seem to know Miterdale – bit of a backwater, I think.
We climbed up through the woods on to Irton Fell and walked along the ridge to Whin Rigg, which has spectacular views down to Wastwater and spectacularly misses to reach the magic 610 metre/2000 foot mark by a mere metres.
Today, it was inhabited by various behooded DofE groups, some of whom didn’t appear to be enjoying themselves very much., and others who weren't enjoying it at all, and yet more who clearly thought the whole idea was crap. There were heavy-looking rucksacks and sore shoulders. I have the tee-shirt for this sort of thing, as it happens.
And so, having bagged our top, we descended to Burnmoor Tarn for a snooze out of the frisky wind in the paddock of Burnmoor Tarn House - at which point it started to rain – so we made for Miterdale’s car park, bagging Boat Howe on the way where it stopped raining.
Two parties of DofE participants were struggling with their tent poles back at the campsite.
A sober night for me in the pub as I’m in the process of rebalancing my blood pressure, following the installation of new batteries in the family blood pressure machine.
Babies squawked all night on the campsite and somewhere a tentful of holidaymakers clinked and laughed. And the wind roared in the trees, but unable to get at me cos I was sheltered behind a wall. I’d forgotten how noisy campsites were.
Walk Number One on Thursday 16th April started in Miterdale. Not many people seem to know Miterdale – bit of a backwater, I think.
We climbed up through the woods on to Irton Fell and walked along the ridge to Whin Rigg, which has spectacular views down to Wastwater and spectacularly misses to reach the magic 610 metre/2000 foot mark by a mere metres.
Today, it was inhabited by various behooded DofE groups, some of whom didn’t appear to be enjoying themselves very much., and others who weren't enjoying it at all, and yet more who clearly thought the whole idea was crap. There were heavy-looking rucksacks and sore shoulders. I have the tee-shirt for this sort of thing, as it happens.
And so, having bagged our top, we descended to Burnmoor Tarn for a snooze out of the frisky wind in the paddock of Burnmoor Tarn House - at which point it started to rain – so we made for Miterdale’s car park, bagging Boat Howe on the way where it stopped raining.
Two parties of DofE participants were struggling with their tent poles back at the campsite.
A sober night for me in the pub as I’m in the process of rebalancing my blood pressure, following the installation of new batteries in the family blood pressure machine.
Babies squawked all night on the campsite and somewhere a tentful of holidaymakers clinked and laughed. And the wind roared in the trees, but unable to get at me cos I was sheltered behind a wall. I’d forgotten how noisy campsites were.
A short walk of about 8 miles and 2400 feet of upness in sunny, hazy, windy weather.
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