Paraffin Pathfinder, Lake District Round, 10th March 2013   ...click on the photos for a better view!   Well, the forecast was for rain showers clearing from the west but, tramping out of town along the disused railway line,  it seemed that the local weather god had other ideas. Fortunately the locals are friendly and a kind gardener donated a black bin liner for extra waterproofing.

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  The area is rightly very protective about its fragile wildlife and is careful to warn visitors to take care... ... and watch out for other hazards. ' ' '  

The Castlerigg Stone Circle was drenched. Thousands of years old, this ancient monument is thought to be one of the first in Europe yet, curiously,  little archeological study has taken place on the site.

Beyond Castlerigg, Naddle Beck had overflowed its banks and made for soggy conditions near the camp site  at Dale Bottom. Climbing between Low Rigg and High Rigg to the little church of St John's in the Vale, shelter was sought under the eves of the Youth Hostel and squishy route notes and sodden maps were rescued. ' Wha' do ewes gae an holiday? The Lake District , of course! This bevy of beauties and their tour guide seemed ready to whip out their cameras to snap the strange creature tramping past.

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It had been very wet that morning: perhaps this owner of this craft  had used it to get home.

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  The steep climb out of Stanah provided great views of the head of Thirlmere. Looking up, it was clear that this was only half-way and that the second half would be covered in snow. ' '

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The cairn at Sticks Pass, 750 m, the highest point on the trail.

Just a little more snow and it would have disappeared.

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Made it! Now, just where to go from here?

Neither, straight ahead.... the compass was a good friend that day.

Into the hanging valley of Glen Ridding, where a combination of greenstone slopes shattered by erosion and the workings of man's  industry conjured an atmosphere of brooding menace.  A posse of ravens patrolled the thermals, casting the beady black eye of the scavenger over the weary walker.

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Pretty? Well no.

Impressive? Very definitely.

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An eight hour day day ends at Ullswater and the last rays of the sun catch the face of Silver Crag. This is as late as anyone would want to be still on the mountain.

And the weather put on a good show!

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' Lake District Round, the last day. It began in green and tranquil Grisedale. ' '   ' Amongst the ice and snow at 300 metres above sea level.. ' ....some sort of ice monster living here? ' ' '

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Looking back towards Ullswater, between Eagle Crag on the left and St Sunday Crag on the right. Grisedale is no longer soft but hard and cold.

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' ' Platelets of ice build up on the windward shore of Grisedale Tarn, thickening the water to an oily texture before compacting into snowy slush. ' ' The Tarn itself, said to be the resting place of the crown of Dunmail, the last King of Cumbria, cast into the deep by his soldiers after his death in battle with the Kings of England and Scotland. At about  550 metres in length, the visibility is not enough to see the far shore of the tarn. ' Grisedale Hause, the gap in the mountains of Seat Sandal and Fairfield and the escape route to Grasmere. Below the clouds lie the pretty towns of Grasmere and Ambleside with attractions, coffee shops and lake side strolls aplenty. However this walker had been granted solitude and safe passage by the gods of the mountains and, after such privilege, all else was to be downhill. Quiet thanks were offered. If it had been the wish of the immortals then it would  surely have been within their power to refuse this mere mortal. Well done Macs Adventure! Happy Walking All,