Being the hostelry I’d visited for a restorative lunch on the day in 2008 when I decided what my final fell would be, it seemed fitting that I should mark the completion of the project in The Bridge. I sat in the pub with a pint and a pie and whilst taking advantage of the free wifi to get the trip photos onto Flickr, was otherwise at a bit of a loss. All too soon, the bus was taking me into Keswick, which I walked through with some distaste – it was crowded with weekend shoppers and tourists and I was tripping over dogs everywhere. There was nothing for me there this time. I waited the time before my next bus and headed away without a second thought. Continue reading What Do I Do Now ?
Daylight’s fingers crept over the surface of the tent and the wind that had blown malevolently all night finally disappeared. It wasn’t supposed to be especially windy according to the forecast, but it seemed that it must have been funnelled in such a way as to enhance its force. Either that, or it’s just out to get me. Continue reading And Then There Were None
I stood watching the black silhouette of the Scafells against a redish glow gradually infiltrating the sky above. As more light spread across the land, the glow became an intense orange concentrated behind Great Gable. A time for contemplation of the walk so far, and the walk ahead. Continue reading The Valley of Sluggishness
The whistling and roaring sounds from outside that I heard whilst safely tucked up in my YHA bunk were all the confirmation needed that I’d made a good call last night. I didn’t feel a bit bad about taking the easy option this time. Continue reading More Jam Than Hartleys
I woke knowing I had a little head start on the day’s walk, by virtue of my camp at High Nook Tarn. I was a bit slow packing up and it was nearly a quarter to nine before I was away. But it didn’t matter – it was likely to be quiet being midweek and away from the big sexy Continue reading Fog, fences and forests
A mere two sleeps after getting home from Dartmoor, and I was off again, riding my by now “usual” trains up to Penrith. With a flexible return ticket in my wallet, that was about the extent of the formal planning for this trip. Nearly at the end of the Wainwrights, maybe it was time for a little spontaneity. Continue reading A Little Bit of Misadventure
…I’ll be heading north to do battle with the last dregs of my Wainwright round. With 10 Western fells to do to complete the 214, plus another two nearby Southern fells that I want to redo as I used a car to get to them, I’m hoping that by the weekend I’ll be celebrating the end. Continue reading By the time you read this…