Today is the day I leave the Lakes District but it
will not let me go without a struggle.
In 2011 I described this day as the worst day of my
life, after contracting food poisoning the day before I was in no fit order to
attempt the climb of Kidsty Pike and its grueling descent.
Over 9 hours and 5 minutes the day was long enough,
the climb of 780m was the highest of the entire walk, and the weather, sleeting
rain, was painfully intolerable, but those things combined were what made it
infamously memorable.
Fortunately today I am in better condition, well no
food poisoning at least only a fuzzy head from the “one for the road”; the
weather is the complete opposite sunny clear skies and temperatures reaching
into the mid twenties.
And after deviating over Helvellyn at 950m Kidsty
Pike is no longer the highest peek on this walk.
Saying my farewells to Mike and Jen I set off down
the road to Patterdale then slowly made my climb out of the valley and up to
Boredale Hause and along Angle Tarn.
It was hot and humid and the sweat poured off me. I
was wishing for a breeze but none came and it would stay that way all day.
Once past Satura Crag I started to climb The Knott.
This is a most desolate barren landscape and for most part of the year quite
inhospitable, but that doesn’t stop the sheep from grazing on what little grass
there is and it didn’t stop the Romans building a supply road up here. In fact
the Romans preferred this high wasteland as a supply route to the more wooded
valleys, which were susceptible to easy ambush.
However I was lost, well not completely I knew I
was somewhere in England on a very high hill.
I don’t use my overall map every day but when it is
needed like right now it is priceless. From this altitude I could see a tarn to
my left that corresponded to my map and calculated I had turned off the correct
route somewhere a kilometer back. So I headed down a sheep path to reconnect
joining a fellow walker.
I made the climb of Knott with my fellow walker, a
guy for Morecombe, who was completing a circular walk over the mountain known
as High Street and back around to Patterdale.
Just past The Knott it is easy to miss the cairn
that marks the fork in the path to Kidsty Pike, simply because most walkers are
at this point knackered, most continue straight ahead up the Roman road known as High Street, before realising they went too far and backtrack to the
cairn. Not me though, I’m a professional, cough cough, I wished my walking
companion good luck and turned left onto Kidsty Pike.
Sitting on the peak were a Tasmania couple I meet
climbing Loft Beck on day 2. We discussed our experiences and then they headed
down off the peak, leaving me alone with the mosquitoes.
Finally I conquered this peak that gave me so much
pain in 2011, I sat for a while covering my legs with my jumper to keep the
pesky mosquitoes off me and enjoyed my achievement, then ate some lunch and
marvelled at the view.
But, Kidsty was not finished with me yet, as I turn
my back and start the decent, I feel her heavy hand pushing all her weight down
on my shoulders crushing my knees, my ankles and my feet reminding me who is in
charge.
It was warming up, I figured around 28 at times.
The hike down was painful even so I passed the
Taswegians who were struggling and wished them well.
The pain does not let up when I reach the shores of Haweswater, now a man made dam renamed Haweswater Reservoir. The nearly 9km walk along this dam seems to never end and it is not as you would think a lakeside stroll should be. As if Kidsty Pike was still dictating the terms, it is a relentless up then down over granite boulders and muddy erosions.
A little over halfway along the dam and I am almost
totally spent. I have run out of water and it is still very warm and no breeze
with some 5km to go.
Finally reaching Burbank, at the foot of the dam wall
very relieved I am now walking on gentle fields. Goodbye Kidsty, for now
anyway.
On reaching Burbank most walkers push on further to
the sizeable village of Shap, making this a huge day, not in miles but in
endurance.
I though veered off the trail and headed northeast,
up to the small village of Bampton Grange (pop about 250). The village has a
store, a post office, a community hall, a playground, and a garage and caravan
site.
As I passed the chapel and crossed the meadow
leading to the village I could see the church clock, which chimed 5:30 as I
crossed the village bridge.
My accommodation at the Crown & Mitre Inn
(conveniently a pub) sits in the shadow of this church, dedicated to St Patrick
and built in 1726, God bless.
My previous PB of 9hr 5 min was smashed, it now
stands at 8hr 3min.
Meeting fellow walkers in the bar all of them
moaning about how tiring this day had been, A Welsh couple who I shared
breakfast with at The Scafell Hotel had too run out of water but luckily they
had some sport gel for a quick sugar hit.
Thankfully the mountains are behind me now, for a
while anyway, as tomorrow I enter the Eden Valley and all its lovely meadows
Daily Stats.
Distance 20.6km
Assent 1074m
Descent 1041m
Time out 8h
3m
Stopped 1h
46m
Moving average 3.4km
per hour
Weather 12 to 28, sunny, clear skies, hot and
humid.
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