The rest of the afternoon and evening goes by in a flash; a blur of
mindless, happy walking. I tramp through the old deer enclosure
of Glencoyne Park; ramble along the lakeshore path where William
and Dorothy Wordsworth famously spotted ‘fluttering and dancing’
daffodils; treat myself to a thirst-quenching, ice-cold pint of Diet
Coke at Beckside Bar in Glenridding; and pause briefly at the war
memorial, saddened by the pictures of the valley’s fallen heroes,
before pressing on along the road to Patterdale. I check into the
YHA, unable to quite grasp that just hours ago I was battling the
burgeoning crowds at Birmingham New Street station, and opt
for an early night in my dorm bed, feeling excited about what the
Ullswater Way has in store tomorrow.
MINIMUM EMISSIONS, MAXIMUM ADVENTURE
By 10am I’m walking north along the delightful shores of
Ullswater, watching Herdwick lambs lie in the morning sun. It’s
so hot I have to accost an elderly lady with grey curly hair and a
purple wide-brimmed sunhat. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother
you, but you haven’t got any sun cream I could borrow please, have
you?”, I ask, rubbing my pinkening nose and neck. “Hold out your
hands then, lovey,” replies the woman, as if she’d been expecting
the request. She nimbly whips out a bottle of Factor 50 from her
bumbag and squirts a healthy dollop into my hands. Suitably
lathered up, I crest a rocky brow and veer right at the Silver Point
headland. I’m aware of my boots pounding down on the dusty, dry
path below me, dislodging gravel, scattering stones and flattening
grass. But I don’t feel guilty about the erosion. The previous
evening I donated £10 to the Lake District Foundation’s Ullswater
Way Fund, a charitable appeal funding both footpath repairs and
conservation work on the trail. It feels only right to be paying my
way and doing my bit.
I continue through steep birch woodland to a craggy clearing,
from which I ogle two paddlers in colourful kayaks on the water
below, before taking a path criss-crossed by a tangled web of
exposed tree roots towards Howtown. From the harbour hamlet, I
make a snap decision – I want to see the view from atop Hallin Fell.
So I detour off the Way, traverse to the church at the top of the hause,
and climb over easy grassy slopes to the towering summit plinth.
Marshmallow-like clouds hover in an azure sky; Ullswater glints
in the sunshine like a silver mirror; and the surrounding mountains
rise and fall with poise and grace, as if painted by a great artist. I sit
atop of rocky excrescence, just off the summit, and breathe in the
scenery. I know I have a long way to go: four more miles on the trail,
a bus, a train and a trudge home through Birmingham. But I don’t
want to rush, so I lie back and bask in the sunshine. I think about
my self-imposed challenge. Zero driving, zero carbon, zero erosion- but maximum adventure. Eco-friendly and exciting. Now that’s a
dichotomy I can cope with.
[left] Hiking between Patterdale and Howtown [above] Sumit of Hallin Fell
[below] James makes it back to Penrith railway station after his trip around the
Ullswater WayULLSWATER WAY
The Great Outdoors July 2019 45