Coast to Coast Day 4
My priorities have changed. Life has shrunk to a microcosm of a world along a plotted path between St Bees and Robin Hoods Bay. If you are not walking that route right now, then, well you don’t exist.
Feet are in my thoughts first thing in the morning and then when I pull off my boots sometime after 5.
Food. No longer is it something to be enjoyed and savoured. It has a purpose. It alleviates hunger. It activates and energises me. Who cares if it is not organic or the hens are happy. I am even eating e numbers. Chips, well wow. Mashed potatoes, roll on!
Backpack. Water, water! it is so heavy. 2 litres has been essential as the weather is so wonderful. Four days ago I would have turned away the plastic energy drink loaded into my packed lunch this morning, but no more. Sugar and salt, what the hell!
Chloe, another Coast to Coaster
I am not walking in a group. Just with my friend, but there is a walking village. People ‘bagging’ the Coast to Coast. All shapes, all sizes. Many nationalities with a load of antipodeans. Due, apparently to Julie Bradbury’s transmission in the southern sphere. Some are experienced trekkers. Some have never walked further than the local park. We are taking 12 days, others up to 15 with bit of tourist stuff and rest days between. We overlap and join up and chat and, occasionally, run away.
From Brock Crag
This has become my very narrow world, which I know some of you will recognise. For another 8 days, as one of my friends put it, I have nothing else to think about than food and footpaths.
Patterdale in the early morning was sleepy and quiet. What a privilege to wake up, pull open curtains and see the mountains. Bliss. After a loosen up over to the base of Place Fell we headed up to Angle Tarn.
Just having to detour to the Pikes – just for the sheer pleasure of being on top. Then round the tarn and a quick sprint up to bag Brock Crag, a Wainwright still on my list.
Joining the C2C path for a while we had to deviate yet again to pull in The Knot. Yes, the other walkers have looked at us with a little more than askance. Rampsgill Head is almost on the route so I am not sure that is a deviation, though you could pass it by. Kidsty Pike though, no one missed out. The view was so wonderful and the Crag is imposing it is no wonder that Wainwright chose it as his route over to Haweswater.
From Kidsty Pike
The shore of Haweswater was more undulating than expected with blue sky the perfect back drop to line of grey crags . It was a pleasure to be in the valley in good weather for a change.
Walking along Haweswater
Turning out of Burnbanks, suddenly Lakeland is left behind. No more mountains. No more ridges, no more towering crags.
Instead, soft leafy lanes, gently babbling streams, lush green grass and lines of bleached white walls. What a difference the walk to Shap from the trudge down from Grisedale Tarn the night before.
Having expected a boring walk to Shap it really was an unexpected pleasure with hardly a foot step on roads or rocks.
Night at The New Inn Hostel.