Category: Lake District Tarns

Posts specifically about the tarns of the Lake District

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Outlying Fells, Southern Fells, Wild Camping3 Comments

The “No Wainwrights” Lake District Backpack

Matthew

After all the shenanigans getting ready for my art exhibition at the start of the month, and then helping a friend with her exhibition which immediately followed mine, I’d managed to rack up a couple of months without any significant time in the outdoors. Other than a brief snatched camp out locally, but then a tent hidden between a farmer’s field and a landfill site is hardly quality outdoors. It was high time I got out into the hills.

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Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Outlying Fells, Southern Fells, Wild Camping6 Comments

The Eskdale Escapade

Matthew

I really should have been on the Cambrian Way, but I just didn’t fancy it. For once I wanted to do something I wanted to do. It’s been 6 years since a truly memorable trip to Eskdale, and a couple of years since a less successful one – I was itching to retread some of those paths, re-see some of those views and above all to immerse myself more deeply into the valley by spending some nights camping out there. So I did. Continue reading “The Eskdale Escapade”

Challenges, Lake District, Lake District Tarns, North Western Fells4 Comments

The Gathering of the Clan

Matthew

From far and wide they came – the south west, the south east, the bit in the middle, and one on foot from Langdale – the Social Hikers gathered near Keswick for our third crack at the 10-in-10 and 5-in-5 in aid of MS Society. Now less a gathering of people who know each other online but had never met face to face, increasingly these meets are bringing together established friends. Old banter and jokes are reworked and the fun continues where it left off last time. Continue reading “The Gathering of the Clan”

Central Fells, Far Eastern Fells, Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Wild CampingLeave a comment

A Short Jaunt in the Lakes

Matthew

This trip had been in the diary for a very long time, ever since the day I signed-up to support Terry Abraham’s Blencathra film in March 2015. With me opting for the VIP premiere tickets package, this meant I knew pretty much what I’d be doing this particular weekend. Hopes of a more extended trip faded as other, art-based, priorities won out leaving me with a Friday to Monday trip. It would be long enough though…

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Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Northern Fells2 Comments

On My Tod

Matthew

 

Looking to the North Western Fells #sh
Dawn looking over to the North Western fells

Dirty cloud obscured the rising sun, with just a small distant patch of orange beyond Great Mell Fell and some reflected colour to the west to betray the start of a new day.  A cacophony of barking, baying and yelping accompanied the start of my climb above the kennels at Gategill, and I could still hear them some time later from hundreds of feet above. Continue reading “On My Tod”

Eastern Fells, Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Wild CampingLeave a comment

Moon, Mist and Matilda

Matthew

Cath was on a bus heading home, but I still had another night and a day to go. The weather was stunning for October, and the thought that was foremost in my mind was repeating the previous night’s stunning camp. Could I take another night of fiery sunsets, 360° views and clear moonlit skies. Hell yes. Especially with a full lunar eclipse due. Continue reading “Moon, Mist and Matilda”

Central Fells, Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Wild Camping4 Comments

A night on Madonna’s chest

Matthew

The taxi dropped me at Grasmere Youth Hostel, my wallet lighter to the tune of a pony. It was either that or a long wait for a bus. A quick check-in and then a squelch around the lawn in the dark to find a suitably dry spot to pitch the tent. Matilda went up relatively speedily, I threw my stuff in as quickly as I could Continue reading “A night on Madonna’s chest”

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Southern Fells, Western Fells, Wild Camping9 Comments

And Then There Were None

Matthew

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”

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Western Fells, Wild Camping3 Comments

More Jam Than Hartleys

Matthew

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”

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Western Fells, Wild Camping2 Comments

A Little Bit of Misadventure

Matthew

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”

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Southern Fells2 Comments

Autumn in the Lakes: Nature’s Palette

Matthew

All is dark when I finally arrive in Windermere, after some nail-biting moments on the train journey up, wondering if I would make my connections at Preston and Oxenholme. Not wanting to wait for the bus, when there’s a taxi right here, I hop in the car and minutes later am at Ambleside youth hostel, timing my arrival for a mini-flood of people waiting to check in. Continue reading “Autumn in the Lakes: Nature’s Palette”

Lake District, Lake District Tarns, Southern Fells, Wild CampingLeave a comment

The Four Valleys Walk – Part 2: Eskdale, Wasdale & Borrowdale

Matthew

I was halfway down a suspiciously unlimey lime and lemonade, when a large blue rucksack came bobbing along the lane in front of the pub. It turned into the “beer garden” and Cath emerged from underneath it, and muttered some words I took to be a greeting. A few minutes later with a pint of ale in her hand, she was more coherent, and I decoded her previous attempt at conversation as being a tirade against the weight of her pack. This would become a familiar gripe for the rest of the trip. Continue reading “The Four Valleys Walk – Part 2: Eskdale, Wasdale & Borrowdale”