DAY 5 – Sunday, 18th August 2002

We had a good breakfast at the Thistle Hotel (on the A591) before commencing the walk to Patterdale at 9.30 a.m. I tried to convince Pat and Mary that Wainwright said we should start the walk at the Mill Bridge on the A591 but they insisted that we should start near the Youth Hostel where they had finished the previous afternoon – fair enough, but it put an extra uphill mile on our journey. Nevertheless I admired them for their determination to be as precise as possible.

John and Penny Freer had advised us to take the right-hand path when we had a choice, where the streams met, and this would be easier than the other way. I am sure this was absolutely the correct advice as other walkers appeared to be doing the same but, nevertheless, it was arduous for an inexperienced old campaigner like me. Unfortunately the weather was awful with a persistent drizzle, which got heavier and heavier, and we could not clearly see the hills on the left of us called the “Great Tongue”. It was really miserable and we had to keep our heads down monitoring the underfoot conditions as it was very slippy on the loose stones.

It was a very long, hard climb towards the top of the ascent and, when we looked back, we realised how high we had climbed, although there was no danger and it was nothing compared with Haystacks, the memory of which will live with me forever. Just before we reached the top of the climb we were joined by two walkers who had caught us up, Tony (a teacher) and Kath (who works at an Early Learning Centre) from Urmston near Manchester. I shall be forever grateful to this charming couple who gave me enormous encouragement and help to get me through to Patterdale. John and Penny had advised us to take the central path (of three alternatives) to go through to the end of the day’s endeavours and this again proved to be sound advice and concurred with Tony and Kath’s objectives.

Tony told me that the range of mountains on the left, which we could barely see, was the side of Helvellyn and all I could think of was how our son Paul must have felt when he was climbing that mountain, as a Venture Scout, at the age of sixteen. Tony was a quick walker and went ahead with Pat, who likes to walk about 100 metres ahead, and we could just see them through the rain and mist. The descent was probably more difficult than normal because the persistent heavy drizzle had made the conditions very slippy underfoot and I was very conscious of the fact that I had had problems recently with my hamstrings and any slip could damage them again.

Mary is obviously very fit, walking regularly on the Moors at home, and she went slightly ahead of Kath and myself. I think the main reason was so that Kath could take the full brunt of my moaning. Tony came back to us as he could see that I was struggling with the descent and lent me his walking sticks which proved to be a great help. Kath and I kept chatting away and we called ourselves the ‘B’ team. I really liked Kath (who is celebrating her 35th Wedding Anniversary with Tony tomorrow) and our conversation meant that the time went quickly and all of a sudden we were going through gates and coming across civilisation as we entered Patterdale.

I was very grateful to Tony and Kath and we arranged to buy them drinks in the White Lion Inn, where we are staying, later that evening. We looked at our watches and I was very surprised to see that we had completed our walk at 2.30 p.m. This was earlier than we had expected, probably because we had very few ‘stops’ as a result of the dreadful weather.

When we reached the White Lion we discovered that Tina had only arrived five minutes earlier after taking advantage of the late check-out time at The Thistle and having a look around Grasmere. She had bought me some waterproofs and the man in the shop had told her that if I had climbed Haystacks I could do anything. This obviously impressed her but the only trouble was that she has started to give me encouragement and tell me to carry on doing this wretched walk – if I come across this awful man Wainwright in a future existence I shall certainly give him a piece of my mind.

Pat, Mary, Tina and myself had a bowl of soup/sandwiches in the bar before going to our rooms to rest prior to dinner at 7 p.m. Tony and Kath joined us for dinner and drinks and just as we finished our meal who should come into the bar but Roger, Audrey and Joyce, whom we had met two days earlier en route from Ennerdale Bridge to Rosthwaite. They were joined by a walking friend of Joyce’s, two Australians whom they had met whilst walking and another associate (Dawn) whom they had met somewhere. We had a great evening, a lot of drinks, and when the drinks had flowed Audrey told Tina in no uncertain terms that I was continually moaning about one thing or another all the time we were walking. This didn’t go down too well with Tina who gave me a right lecture when we retired to our room and told me to shut up and get on with it – just what I needed!

DAY 6 – Monday, 19th August 2002

We had arranged to meet Roger, Joyce and Audrey at the starting point for today’s walk, just a few metres from the White Lion Inn. Everyone was there except Roger, who apparently is always late, and Mary and I decided to set off at 9.20 a.m. so that the others could catch us up. Unfortunately, this was a major error of judgment as we took a wrong turn within the first few hundred metres, whilst following another walker who unfortunately was not going to Shap.

When we realised our mistake we had to retrace our steps and discovered we were now well behind our colleagues. Fortunately they waited for us and we climbed yet another massive hill. John Freer had warned us that the start of the day would be arduous and this was certainly not an overstatement. The weather was cloudy and we had a couple of light showers but it was a considerable improvement on the previous day which had left us all saturated and bedraggled.

As appears to be normal in Lakeland we climbed up and up towards the top of the mountain – I have now been reliably informed that anything over 600 metres high is classified as a mountain. The two Australians, Peter and Melva from Perth were with us and we had been joined by Mark, who has just graduated from Sheffield University, and his friend Nick who is still at Loughborough University and who celebrates his 22nd birthday tomorrow. I am sure that at his age I found something better to do than go on one of the masochist Wainwright walks.

We eventually reached the top of the mountain (802 metres high) where we had our photographs taken. At this point an aeroplane flew through the valley at a lower altitude than we were at and I decided there and then that I was now at a higher point than I would ever be in my life without being in an aeroplane. The thought of the height we had climbed to was quite frightening although I have to say that the actual ascent was nowhere near as scary as Haystacks. We now had to descend and John Freer had warned me that there was a steep grassy descent which was quite dangerous. Fortunately, Mark had been very thorough in his research and preparation and he had worked out an alternative descent as the part that John had described was also apparently eroding.

We eventually got to the bottom about half-way along the Hausewater Reservoir and made our weary way towards Shap. People apparently look back towards Lakeland with sadness but I was overjoyed although I have to say that the views and scenery as we climbed upwards were some of the most spectacular I have seen anywhere in the world. We made our way to Shap arriving very weary at 7.45 p.m. and we all met up at the Greyhound Inn for a meal and drinks at 8.30 p.m. We are staying at “Brookfield” which is a very comfortable, clean guest-house with excellent facilities. It was also a very long day for Tina who helped the others with transport to and from their accommodation to the Greyhound Inn.

DAY 7 – Tuesday, 20th August 2002

After eating yet another sumptuous breakfast, this time at Brookfield, Shap, where the proprietress, Mrs. Brunskill, is very helpful and accommodating, we set off for Kirkby Stephen (a distance of approximately 20 miles) with our newly acquired Australian friends, Peter and Melva.

The departure time was 9.35 a.m. from the Kings Arms which is located a few hundred metres down the main street from Brookfield. I forgot to say two significant things yesterday – firstly because I had told Tina how well the walking sticks that Tony (from Urmston) had loaned to me the day before had helped me, particularly on ascents and descents, she had bought me a new pair in Patterdale and I used them very successfully. Secondly, Roger, Joyce and Audrey had decided to split the walk from Patterdale to Keld into three parts and they left us to stay at Bampton the previous day and were scheduled to stay at Orton tonight. We are unlikely to see them again on this trip unless we stay to see them at Robin Hood’s Bay although Roger has to go back to work on Tuesday and he will be leaving the sisters as they walk through Shap.

We offered Tina’s services to drive Roger to Kirkby Stephen, where he had left his car, and this she did during the late morning. It was a fairly uneventful start to the day with the terrain reasonably flat and we made our way towards the Chocolate Factory at Orton (approximately 8 miles) where we had arranged to meet Tina for a snack which we eventually did at 1.15 p.m. We had soups/ice cream and I had a mug of “hot chocolate” made with pure chocolate. The visit to the Chocolate Factory went on too long and we did not leave until 2.45 p.m.

I do not think we realised how far there was still to go, particularly with the slight diversion we had made to Orton, a beautiful village with very desirable properties. The scenery was still excellent with the rolling hills in the background although obviously not as spectacular as that of the Lake District. However I do not want to see the latter again except from the ground.

The ascents into Kirkby Stephen were quite demanding and we did not get to our destination until 7.50 p.m. We had decided, en route, to ask Tina if she could arrange a meal for us all as soon as we got back and we ate in a rather bedraggled state in the Coglan Castle Hotel about a mile up the road from the Jolly Farmer’s Guest House where we were staying for the night.

We had a good meal, Pat drank too much and for too long a time and it was his turn to get a real ear-bending from Mary who was very tired and wanted nothing else other than a shower and get to bed. We managed to get him out of the Coglan Castle at just after 10 p.m. and we took them back to the Jolly Farmer’s. Another good, hard but satisfying day with a further 20 miles under our belts, a distance which none of us had ever walked in a single day previously.

DAY 8 – Wednesday, 21st August 2002

Because of problems early on in each day’s walk, mainly as a result of us over-eating at breakfast we had decided to cut down the intake but unfortunately I had forgotten the arrangement when they came to collect our order at the Jolly Farmer’s Guest House at Kirkby Stephen. However we had been promised a lovely day’s walk to Keld which was only 12 miles away.

Two weeks ago, if anybody had said to me “Do you want to go on a little 12 mile walk today?”, I would have thought they were mad. Now, after walking over 20 miles yesterday I am looking forward to a gentle 12 mile stroll. How wrong can one be? We had arranged to meet Peter and Melva (the two Australians) and we set off at 9.50 a.m.

Nobody had told me that we had got to climb from sea-level to 2170 feet and I vowed to myself that I would look closer at the maps and walk details in future. Melva and I wanted to walk the alternative easier route to Keld but we were outvoted by Pat, Mary and Peter, who all wanted to be martyrs to the cause. The initial climb to about 1000 feet was early in the walk and took just about all the strength that I had left so one can imagine how I felt when I saw the next hill looming large in front of us!

The highlight of today’s walk is supposed to be the top of Nine Standards Rigg where the main Pennine watershed is crossed and we enter Yorkshire. On previous days I couldn’t wait to leave behind the mountains in the Lake District, not because of the wonderful scenery but simply the tortuous climbing – now I was being faced with more climbing, albeit lengthy ascents, not dangerous, towards nine massive boulders marking a spot of considerable significance. It was certainly significant to me when I got there, had my photograph taken with the group, and realised that most of the remaining six miles would be on the descent although there were some irritating little climbs in between.

What I wasn’t prepared for however were the bogs on the North Yorkshire Moors. No doubt recent inclement weather had made them worse but why anybody would want to spend a day of leisure walking through ankle deep mud completely defeats me. Everybody to their own, as they say, but it is not an exercise that I shall be repeating on a regular basis.

We eventually got to Keld at 5.15 pm. where we were met by Tina who had checked us in at the Kearton Country Hotel, Thwaite – a nearby location in a remote part where television etc. is still a thing of the future! She had spoken on the phone today to our son Paul who had told her in no uncertain terms that if either of us did anything as daft as this in future he would book us in to an establishment which would be more suitable for our twilight age. Tina told us we had to eat at 7 p.m., the latest time that the Hotel served, and we had an excellent meal and a few drinks afterwards.