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

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”

A Snowy Saunter around the Southern Fells

I lay in my sleeping bag nervously watching the tent flexing and straining under the force of the icy wind blowing down from the head of Eskdale, hoping it would hold as it was now too dark to shift camp to somewhere more sheltered. Memories of a past windy camp came back to both haunt me and at the same time boost my confidence that my tent would hold… Next morning I emerged to the new snowfall, pulling on my outer layers in the biting cold and tunneling my way out through the snowdrift surrounding Monica to inspect her sorry and bedraggled state after a night standing up to the Lake District winter…

Continue reading “A Snowy Saunter around the Southern Fells”