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”
I’d long dreamed of exploring this valley and camping somewhere remote in its upper reaches to enjoy the majesty of England’s highest mountains surrounding me, but the reality was damper, mistier and more precarious than I’d imagined it would be.
I looked out through the tent doorway and watched the crepuscular reflections of the fell’s upper ramparts on the tarn a few feet away. Barely a ripple disturbed the surface and I sat alone enjoying the evening burst of colour in a location where the predominant colours are usually green and grey. The sun sunk lower and the colours and reflections faded, bringing the coldness of night. I retreated into the tent and settled down for another night alone on a Lakeland fell.