Rainy Rambling in the Rake District

Me and my brother had a date with Eel Crag today. met office, though, they say "no". the bar-b-que summer continues ever more damply and so, in a heaving, thrashing downpour, we decided to walk from Chez Knipe (Kendal) to the railway station at Windermere and then catch the train back again. On the way, we could bag a couple of pubs and a little hillock called Crook Knott which is Knott in Crook, well, at least, knott in this Crook over here.....

Basically, it chucked it down all day and all of the pubs were tightly shut. I used an umbrella for most of the day. I noted, too, that most of the time, the umbrella actually had a negative weight. It's anti-gravitational properties encouraged by a cheeky breeze meant that at times I had to hold it down. On the summit of Crook Knott, where the fabulous view wasn't , the upwards G force was several kilos, I expect.

At one point, due to the lack of lounge bar facilities available, we camped out briefly in the porch of All Saints Church at Underbarrow. This is much better than St Michaels Chapel which I visited the other day, cos this is ALL the saints. This church goes up to eleven. (probably more....) Anyway, we ate our butties in the porch and I donated some loose change into the offertory as compensation for the wet bum marks on the porch floor.

We rambled through the dripping woods, bracken and pastures of South Lakeland. Energetic and probably bored suckler cows bounced towards us across splashy pastures but got scared by the umbrella. Sheep wondered what it was. A buzzard mewed and patrolled above. I want a picture of an eagle on my umbrella, apparently these buzzards can get a bit grumpy.....

And so, eventually, we arrived damply at Windermere where John's wife rang and asked if we wanted picking up. A no-brainer in the circumstances. She arrived fifteen minutes later and we wet the seats of her car and dampened her boot. The queue at the station ticket office had stalled with some chap enquiring about the station facilities in Cardiff or whether or not he could get vegetarian cappucino in the buffet in Leeds...or something. Whatever it was, it was taking a long time and people were starting to fret about whether or not they would get a ticket before the train came and went again. The chap inside the security glass cared not and showed patience, boredom and a mischievious lack of concern about the length of the growing, fidgeting whingeing, queue of potential customers.

Didn't take superdawg on this mission as he wouldn't have enjoyed the constant rain (he hates that kind of thing) and the suckler cows would have mugged him. So he stayed home in front of the fire with a good book and a mug of hot, sweet coffee.

Me and John did 13 miles and 1900 feet of uphill.

We followed the Dales Way for a bit. I'm not doing the Dales Way if the weather is like this all the time, though.