Sunday Service and Sublime Scenery: November 2

Given Saturday’s marathon through ferns and fells, it was understandable that I would not suggest another morning stroll together. Instead, I proposed a leisurely breakfast, some time for me to write, and then an 11:00 .a.m. worship service at the church in Eskdale Green, just up the hill (St. Bega’s Church). Ruth agreed, and decided to take a walk along the river that ran next to our group of cottages while I focused on writing.

Alas, Ruth got a bit “bogged down” (excuse the pun) on her walk, though she enjoyed the fresh air and being outdoors. It was a fine morning—clouds and sunshine—and at 11:30 we hiked up the road to St. Bega’s.

When we arrived, however, we found the parking lot empty and a number of volunteers clearing the retaining walls and pavement of weeds and brambles. They explained that the church is currently closed, due to parts of the ceiling having fallen. Services are being held in a village about ten minutes away—but of course it was too late for us to reach it in time.

Disappointed, we began the walk back down to our cottage. Ruth said, “Let’s have our own service,” and began singing hymns. So I chimed in, and we worshiped aloud as we made our way home.

After a hearty lunch (we need to finish all that chicken soup!) we decided that now is the day for trying to find Gaterigg How up in Nether Wasdale, The afternoon was getting on (sun sets now about 4:15 p.m.), so we jumped in our trusty and newly refitted car, and off we went. 

Passing through another small village (Santon Bridge?), we first stopped to shop at a local craft fair. Passing up the tea and cake, we browsed handmade jewelry, cards, ornaments, scarves, handmade woolens, and much more. Satisfied with our purchases, we drove on to Nether Wasdale and parked near St. Michael’s church.

We’d walked the path toward Gaterigg How two years ago, but had turned off the path to take a shorter hike. This time we followed the AllTrails app, which proved more reliable than it had yesterday. We followed the River Irt, traversing through meadows, climbing stiles, circumventing mud and standing water, all the time following the path. Again, stunning scenery:

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon walk. Not a dead fern in sight, and no hills to climb or scramble down. My knees were so grateful. 

We met only one lone walker and her dog. She informed us that there was a National Trust property ahead, though she couldn’t say how far, and thought that this might be the Gaterigg How we were looking for. So we kept walking, always hugging the River Irt, but soon realized that we must turn back if we were to find our way back before dark.

So reluctantly we turned back, still mystified as to what Gaterigg How might actually look like (I’m including it in one of my stories). That was a disappointment. But the walk back to Nether Wasdale was not. 

One of the two inns in Nether Wasdale, close to the beginning of the path to

Gaterigg How.

Ruth remembered a gift shop and cafe just outside the village, so we drove there in the hopes of a cream tea. And we were in luck—it was 15 minutes before closing time, and they had just two scones left! So we had our first and only cream tea of this trip:

We did consume it in a hurry, because they were just minutes away from closing. But we enjoyed every guilt-free bite. After our hikes of yesterday and today, we deserved that rich clotted cream and the slatherings of strawberry jam. And it was needed nourishment—we didn’t want to return home thin as rails!

Home to a very light supper indeed (blame the cream tea), and another episode of Foyle’s War. How lovely.