Where's Erica? She's at Coniston Park Coppice Caravan Club site, where her big brother Bertie spent a few days a couple of weeks ago.
Weather: Disappointingly damp and ridiculously cool for the time of year.
We were awake, and so got up, at just gone 5am. A few minutes later rain started drumming down and a peek out of the window suggested that it wasn't a passing shower.
It was still raining as we pulled into the road-end to the SE of Pooley Bridge an hour and a half later, which made my application of suncream seem pointless, but I grasped at a bit of optimism (mainly that it wouldn't be washed off before I saw some sunshine!).
Happily, within minutes of stepping out of Erica, that batch of rain petered out and I had a goodly-long dry spell, so whilst it was grey and the cloud base was low, at least I wasn't getting wet from above. From below was a different matter. After all of the recent rain the paths were mainly streams today and the bogs that had been frozen when I did this route 6 weeks ago were puddly morasses, through which I had no option but to splosh.
The air temperature was much warmer today than 6 weeks ago too, but with the lack of sunshine and the presence of a breeze, it didn't feel that way. By the time I'd hauled myself up out of Fusedale (where a bird flew between my legs as I stepped across a stream!) I was starting to cool down, in spite of the physical effort. Between High and Low Kop I reached the point where I was cold enough to want another layer, but also knew that in about 15 minutes I would drop down out of the wind and into a warmer temperature, and if I could just hold out that long, I would save myself two jacket-faffs. Then it started raining again, forcing my hand on the waterproof. I popped it on over my windshirt, expecting soon to take it off again, but at no point between there and Mardale Head did I overheat (running, wearing two jackets, when it's almost June. Ridiculous weather!).
Looking happy to be there even though it was raining as I took this
Same view of Haweswater but without my mug blocking it
I arrived at Mardale Head for lunch (at 1015am; good job lunch is a moveable feast) soggy and filthy, and just as the next shower hit. Half an hour later, after a cup of tea, a couple of egg mayo sandwiches and a few biscuits, I donned brand new socks, put them into sodden shoes and stepped back out into the rain. I was up at the top of Gatescarth Pass before it finally dried up again. (Gatescarth Pass was, incidentally, where I finally started seeing people. It was really quiet out today.)
The main thing that was remarkable between Gatescarth and Troutbeck was how good I felt. Whether due to the amount of food I managed to eat today, or the extra 6-weeks of training (including far more hilliness than before the end of Lockdown), I finished the day having covered 38.5km with 1700m of ascent/descent yet still feeling human and like I could happily continue on. Even better, I didn't hate Garburn Pass today. All quite a contrast to 6 weeks ago.
The sun came out for the final pass of the day and I stripped down to my shirt sleeves for a while.
Continuing wasn't an option, as by the time I arrived at Erica in Troutbeck, Mick should have been on his way to Ambleside, where I was to pick him up. As it went, he had to wait so long for a parking space to become available that he was only just heading out as I arrived.
An hour later, I picked him up in Ambleside and down to Coniston we came. Unfortunately, the pitch we wanted was already taken (as were most of the 250 here), so we got Erica nice and level on the next-but-one pitch, which would have been fine if her electric hook-up cable was 5 metres longer. We moved Erica around and got her tolerably level, but still the cable was a bit short. Off went Mick on a search for a pitch nearer to a hook-up point. He returned and we drove down there, just as another van manoeuvred onto it. Darn!
With the limiting factor of not yet having any leveling ramps for Erica, we surveyed the few other options and came up trumps. This will do us for the next couple of nights.
Bonus photo for Conrad, who I'm sure will know exactly where this was taken:
Weather: Disappointingly damp and ridiculously cool for the time of year.
We were awake, and so got up, at just gone 5am. A few minutes later rain started drumming down and a peek out of the window suggested that it wasn't a passing shower.
It was still raining as we pulled into the road-end to the SE of Pooley Bridge an hour and a half later, which made my application of suncream seem pointless, but I grasped at a bit of optimism (mainly that it wouldn't be washed off before I saw some sunshine!).
Happily, within minutes of stepping out of Erica, that batch of rain petered out and I had a goodly-long dry spell, so whilst it was grey and the cloud base was low, at least I wasn't getting wet from above. From below was a different matter. After all of the recent rain the paths were mainly streams today and the bogs that had been frozen when I did this route 6 weeks ago were puddly morasses, through which I had no option but to splosh.
The air temperature was much warmer today than 6 weeks ago too, but with the lack of sunshine and the presence of a breeze, it didn't feel that way. By the time I'd hauled myself up out of Fusedale (where a bird flew between my legs as I stepped across a stream!) I was starting to cool down, in spite of the physical effort. Between High and Low Kop I reached the point where I was cold enough to want another layer, but also knew that in about 15 minutes I would drop down out of the wind and into a warmer temperature, and if I could just hold out that long, I would save myself two jacket-faffs. Then it started raining again, forcing my hand on the waterproof. I popped it on over my windshirt, expecting soon to take it off again, but at no point between there and Mardale Head did I overheat (running, wearing two jackets, when it's almost June. Ridiculous weather!).
I arrived at Mardale Head for lunch (at 1015am; good job lunch is a moveable feast) soggy and filthy, and just as the next shower hit. Half an hour later, after a cup of tea, a couple of egg mayo sandwiches and a few biscuits, I donned brand new socks, put them into sodden shoes and stepped back out into the rain. I was up at the top of Gatescarth Pass before it finally dried up again. (Gatescarth Pass was, incidentally, where I finally started seeing people. It was really quiet out today.)
The main thing that was remarkable between Gatescarth and Troutbeck was how good I felt. Whether due to the amount of food I managed to eat today, or the extra 6-weeks of training (including far more hilliness than before the end of Lockdown), I finished the day having covered 38.5km with 1700m of ascent/descent yet still feeling human and like I could happily continue on. Even better, I didn't hate Garburn Pass today. All quite a contrast to 6 weeks ago.
Continuing wasn't an option, as by the time I arrived at Erica in Troutbeck, Mick should have been on his way to Ambleside, where I was to pick him up. As it went, he had to wait so long for a parking space to become available that he was only just heading out as I arrived.
An hour later, I picked him up in Ambleside and down to Coniston we came. Unfortunately, the pitch we wanted was already taken (as were most of the 250 here), so we got Erica nice and level on the next-but-one pitch, which would have been fine if her electric hook-up cable was 5 metres longer. We moved Erica around and got her tolerably level, but still the cable was a bit short. Off went Mick on a search for a pitch nearer to a hook-up point. He returned and we drove down there, just as another van manoeuvred onto it. Darn!
With the limiting factor of not yet having any leveling ramps for Erica, we surveyed the few other options and came up trumps. This will do us for the next couple of nights.
Bonus photo for Conrad, who I'm sure will know exactly where this was taken:
That's naughty. It looks as though it could be fished out all too easily but I assure you that was not the case, especially with the prevailing conditions and my reluctance to spread myself on the soaking planking, never mind spending ages trying to find something to poke it with. Better to recognise the futility and make a swift decision to go for broke.
ReplyDeleteYour distances and motivation are impressive.
I can confirm that it didn't look at all easily retrievable. The camera makes the slats look wider apart than they are.
DeleteGiven how easily a buckle and a bit of webbing can be replaced it wouldn't have been worth the faffing around in the rain trying to manoeuvre it through the slats, particularly when there was no guarantee of success and a great chance of frustration.
I was, however, amused to spot it. A bit like some obscure Geocache.