Saturday! The morning dawned bright and clear, and we were eager to get out and explore after our day of enforced waiting for our flat tire to be fixed. The plan was to drive to Nether Wasdale after lunch to find the path to Gaterigg How (a location mentioned in a story I’m writing). I said to Ruth, “Why don’t we take a short stroll this morning just to stretch our legs? Then I’ll do some writing, and after that we’ll go to Nether Wasdale.” Ruth happily agreed. She’s always up for a walk.
Little did we know what lay in store for us on this short morning stroll.
It started out innocently enough—just a walk down the main road, then a turn to the right up a lane that would lead us past several farm houses and eventually onto a riding track. It was a lovely morning, with immense clouds sailing overhead, dappling the fells with ever-changing sunlight and shadow. There were late-blooming roses and fuchsia along the stone walls, and of course the ubiquitous fields of sheep.
The riding track ran south, but my AllTrails app directed us to turn north, following a narrower path uphill. (At this point, there should have been a sinking feeling in the pits of our stomachs, a dark premonition of some approaching misfortune—but no, we climbed blissfully on.) Soon we ran into boggy patches, which are only to be expected in Lake District terrain after the rains. We made our way uphill to some rewarding and very satisfying views.
Note the stream of water that takes up most of the path.
And here our tale takes a turn. Following the walking paths laid out in my AllTrails app, we figured we’d link up with a trail that would take us to the rear of Bower House Inn, near our cottage. The “short stroll” was taking a bit longer than planned, but we figured another hour of walking would bring us home in time for lunch.
However, we seemed to be running out of trail. Squelching our way across high boggy meadows, we kept trying to convince ourselves that we could see the path. And our connection must just be over that next ridge….
The AllTrails app seemed to suggest that the trail followed an old stone wall. So we climbed over a gap in the wall and set out to find it.
This is not an easy feat for a 73-year-old with arthritic knees.
We were met with a sea of dead ferns that lay tangled on the ground, hiding small streams, rocky outcroppings, muddy pools, and uneven terrain. The ferns caught at our feet and tried to trip us at every turn. We could not see a path, even though the app clearly showed that one should be there.
At this point, we should have turned back. However, we were not happy about having to face that boggy meadow again. Plus, Ruth is a woman of great faith. She was sure we were on the right track and that a path would appear soon. In a few minutes, she was out of sight as I struggled to take even a few steps among the treacherous ferns.
We never did find the path. Instead, we spent what seemed like years, struggling our way down a steep hillside, keeping to the wall until it became impossible. At some points, I had to climb down backwards, the path was so steep and slippery.
I wasn’t kidding about the “sea of ferns.”
At last we found what was the faint outlines of a trail, leading down to the track of the old steam railway that runs from Ravenglass up into the fells. By that time my knees were crying, weeping, pleading with me to stop this torturous journey. Though we had finally reached level terrain, they did not stop complaining. Ruth striding blithely ahead, I decided that I must ignore them, because no one was going to come and pick me up and carry me home if I gave in.
Searching for a shortcut home, we left the railway and explored several meadows before finding one that led out to our road. The last few hundred yards of walking were perhaps the most painful, because I knew that relief was close at hand.
A couch has never looked so good or felt so heavenly.
Ruth kindly put the chicken in the oven to roast, while I lay on my bed in bliss and then ran a hot bath. (Do you know how hard it is to sit down in a bathtub with knees that refuse to bend?) After the bath: roast chicken, butternut squash, and Brussels sprouts. Perfection. And then another episode of Foyle’s War, and so to bed.
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