Saturday, August 13th, 2011: Elterwater Tarn
Bob: The "Langdales" packet of walks that we had purchased in Hawkshead contained a walk that started with the description, "If there could be only one walk that captures the timeless tranquility and unique beauty of the Lake District -- this is the one!" Well, how could we pass up a walk with press like that? It helped that the walk circled down past Skelwith Bridge because we knew that was about a mile away from our B&B at Holmeshead. After stoking up with a full English breakfast and gathering not only our rain gear, including my New Best Friend crushable and packable hat, but also an extra pair of dry socks for the eventuality that we would once again have soaking wet feet at the end of the walk, we set off past Skelwith Fold. The sun was peeking out here and there, so we had some views of the countryside when brilliantly illuminated and that did change the outlook considerably. |
Monika: In one of the packets of walks we had bought, I had found another one we could do without driving. The walk came through Skelwith Bridge, which meant we would only add another mile or so to the 5-mile walk. The advantage of this was besides not having to pay for car parks, Bob could also enjoy a beer if we stopped at a pub for lunch. So after breakfast we started off towards Skelwith Fold. It was not raining although overcast. Neither of my two pairs of shoes had completely dried out, but one pair was not too bad. At Skelwith Fold we found a mailbox and mailed the cards we had written yesterday. We walked through the little hamlet, admiring the houses and a carved wooden gargoyle that was guarding a driveway entrance. |
Bob: We also witnessed one of those head-to-head confrontations peculiar to the narrow rural lanes of England (and Scotland, and Ireland), but since we were only observers we could relax off the side of the road and take pictures of it all. In this case a van encountered a Land Rover and the Land Rover reversed back into the nearest "passing place", which was in this case a wide spot in the road next to a farmer's gate. We were standing there to watch all that transpired and take pictures, of course. |
Monika: At the last house was an overlook where we saw a plaque with the names of the distant mountains and it was actually clear enough that we could see them. Picture time, of course. On we went along the one lane road to Skelwith Bridge, making room for an SUV that was also going downhill. We were rather amused when a little while later we saw the SUV backing up and seemingly being pushed by a small delivery truck. When there finally was a larger opening by the entrance to a gate the truck could finally get around the SUV and they both went on their opposite ways. Ahh, walking is simpler! |
Bob: While still on our side of the bridge, we turned uphill and joined the loop for route #1, Elterwater, in the middle. Our path soon branched away from the road and literally over hill and dale towards the heights of Lingmoor Fell and the Langdale Pikes. There was an astonishing variety of gates and stiles to cross the stone walls marking the end of each field or copse of forest. A stile, for the uninitiated, is a set of steps that lead up and over a fence or stone wall, sometimes combined with a small gap in the wall or fence on top. This allows us 98% Chimpanzees to clamber over the wall with some alacrity if not dignity, whereas the various forms of livestock in the field cannot. At times we followed alongside the local brooks and rivers, but at times the trail itself became a stream due to the extremely high rainfall over the last couple of days. All that water draining off the heights also contributed to our seeing a very nice two-section waterfall in full flower, to mix a metaphor. This waterfall at Colwith Force had a short flat section between the upper and lower falls, and I had a problem trying to get a decent picture of the whole thing from the only possible vantage point. I finally settled on taking a panoramic set of shorts diagonally up and down the path of the whitewater, which was successful but will look extremely odd once I get it printed, framed, and hung crookedly on the wall! |
Monika: At Skelwith Bridge we started following the instructions, walking along nicely laid out paths, through gates, across stiles, and through kissing gates. Everywhere you looked was another bucolic scene It was really a wonderful walk, and best of all, it was not raining and my feet where not getting wet. We did pass a few farms and finally came back to the river Brathay where we saw a rather spectacular waterfall at Colwith Force. Bob carefully walked close enough to get some rather nice pictures. |
Bob: We continued our long, undulating, uphill march until we were in a valley surrounded by the fells on all sides. With the sheep plus an occasional herd of cows grazing in all the pastures on the lower slopes and in the valley, it was a quite bucolic scene. We worked our way across the valley and were just about ready to turn downhill for the long descent into the hamlet of Elterwater when we saw a sign stating that the Little Langdale Tarn was off to the left. The sign did not say how FAR it was, so we asked another hiker and he said 1/4 mile or so. So we decided to make the detour over to the tarn, and it turned out to be more like 1/2 to 2/3 of a mile, which will teach me to trust someone else's estimates of distance! I should know better! However, we persevered and the tarn itself truly was a beautiful little mountain lake situated in a valley surrounded on three sides by the looming fells. Very pretty, and well worth the extra walking if you are ever up this way. |
Monika: Walking through another few fields with the accompanying stiles and gates we finally came out at the final lane to Elterwater and I was thinking I was ready for lunch. But when we came to the lane to the signpost, pointing in the opposite direction of where we were supposed to go was a sign saying "Little Langdale Tarn". We asked another hiker, how far to the tarn, and he said that it was only 1/4 mile or so and very pretty. Well we weren't all that tired yet and decided to go take a look. Unfortunately the path itself was more like a little stream with water flowing downhill and my heretofore dry shoes and socks were no longer dry. But the tarn was worth it. It was only a small lake but it was nestled in the valley between the mountains that rose majestically up into the sky. Of course, there were sheep for foreground for the picture taking. |
Bob: Backtracking down the hillside into Elterwater, we found the Britannia Inn, the local pub, and decided to have lunch there. The really was no alternative place in the hamlet, but fortunately it was a clean and well-lit pub with open windows in front and the interior walls painted white. That is in contrast to the usual dimly-lit and darkly-paneled pub decor that tends to make me claustrophobic, so I was happy to have our lunch there. I was even happier that since I was not driving I could, for once, have a draft beer. Monika and I shared a pint of Ambleside Pale Ale (very mild although tasty) and then a second pint of a special brew made for the Britannia Inn that turned out to be heartier but still not at all bitter. While we were eating the rain stopped and the sun briefly came out a bit. The sky stayed cloudy mind you, but at least the rain had stopped for good and we could see occasional sunbeams that brightly illuminated random parts of the landscape. Our route back paralleled the River Brathay, and that section was a big, wide, well-groomed path that was just chock-full of weekend walkers. The trail was so smooth and level that we even saw one gentleman easily pushing his wife in a wheel chair, which was nice for her and quite an impossible thing to do for all the other sections of the walk. |
Monika: By now we really were hoping that Elterwater had a pub and that it was not too crowded, since the longer we walked the more hikers we met. There were even some groups that were walking together. This was really a popular hiking area and of course it being Saturday brought out a lot of people. Walking to Elterwater was again like walking down a little stream and it even started raining but since my feet were already wet by now I no longer cared. At Elterwater we found the Britannia Inn. The courtyard was indeed crowded but there was a nice little table for two in the pub right next to the window where I could admire the flowers. The pub had pubfare and quite a few beers on tap. Bob and I decided to share the first pint and get another if we felt we wanted it. I had the "ploughman's plate", I always wanted to find out what it was. It was indeed wonderful: brown bread with 3 different kinds of cheese, some interesting chutney, a salad, and half an apple. I let Bob have some of the salad, like the tomatoes and the pickled onions and I really enjoyed the different sharp cheeses with the bread. Of course, it was too much and Bob helped me finish it together with another pint. Well satisfied, we went back to our hike. It was only a mile or so back to Skelwith Bridge along the river Brathay. The rain had stopped and even the sun peeked out, so it was again time to take pictures of the beautiful landscape with the river in the foreground and the mountains in the background. |
Bob: The Eltwater is in fact a little lake formed by a natural dam in the River Brathay. The river went over that ledge of rock at Skelwith Force where we found another impressive waterfall. Although somewhat lower, that waterfall actually had a much larger volume of water cascading over it and made the low, grumbling growl that I associate with serious waterfalls. We also had to really watch our step when walking the trail over to the base of the falls as the rocks were slippery and a miss-step would have been disastrous in one way or the other. |
Monika: We even passed another waterfall, Skelwith Force. It was not as tall as some of the others, but the water gushed through it with undiminished force. |
Bob: Our final stop on the walk was at Kirkstone Quarries, a finishing plant for the slate quarried right up the road by Ambleside as it turned out. And what beautiful pieces of slate they had there! If you like natural stone at all, make sure you stop by the quarry showroom and shop if you are ever in the area because you might find things you like such as the teapot stone, coasters, and an engraved nameplate with "HOLT" on it that we had commissioned. But truly the most impressive thing, which was just lying around, was a 4 or 5-foot long slab of slate with a Coelecanth (ancient fish) engraved on it! The result was astonishingly lifelike, just like some of the best bass-reliefs I have seen around the world, and much to my frustration I could not even discern the name of the artist. And they didn't even have it displayed!! Arrgh!! But it was certainly a piece of art looking very out of place among a set of plain slate slabs. Curious. The quarry plant turned out to be almost at Skelwith Bridge, so from there we simply crossed the bridge and trudged the mile or so uphill to get back to our B&B. We had been walking well over 5 hours by then, however, so we had to stop and rest every so often on the way up. At the end of the road, however, we could just curl up in our cozy little room and have coffee, hot chocolate, and snacks, which was the perfect way to end a perfect day. |
Monika: When we got back to Skelwith Bridge, we had to walk through the slate workshops. Large pieces of slate were sitting outside, even a sculpture of a prehistoric fish. But what was even more interesting was that they would create individual signs. Having "HOLT" engraved on a slate piece sounded tres cool and we walked in. The young lady having pulled Saturday duty could not promise that it would be done by Tuesday morning, but she suggested we leave all the information and come in Monday morning and she would check whether it could be done. I certainly hope so. In any case, we set aside 4 slate coasters and a teapot rest which we also will pick up on Monday. I really fell in love with a thick slate cutting board, but it was so heavy that there was no way we could possible take it with us. Sigh. By now we were really getting tired. Walking across Skelwith Bridge, I noted that the river was no longer over its banks as it had been two days ago and took a picture to document it. The road from Skelwith Bridge to Skelwith Fold was uphill all the way so we were really tired when we got to our home away from home for the afternoon coffee and hot chocolate and I was glad to put my feet up with a good book! |
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