I think it is fair to say that the weather toyed with me today. Every so often it would brighten and threaten to clear, only to be followed by successively more virulent bouts of rain.

I was fully awake by 6.00, but the pitter patter on the tent dissuaded me from an early start. By 7.00, the rain had stopped. I had breakfast and packed. Without undue haste, I was away by nine o’clock. The clouds appeared to lift a bit, so I started back down to Mardale Head with the intention of climbing up to Small Water, then to Nan Bield and Mardale Ill Bell.

However, the weather was mocking me. By the time I was half way down, it was obvious that it was too windy and that the clouds had no intention of lifting for me.

After a few minutes of contemplation, I decided that it was best to keep low. The most obvious thing to do was to walk around Haweswater. So I retraced my steps to The Rigg to walk to Burnbanks.

For future reference, this side of the lake (I’m going to call it a lake rather than a reservoir as it sounds better) is a beautiful walk. It alternates between woods and ferny hillsides. There are several attractive waterfalls. Unusually for the Lakes, there are several foot bridges to cross the raging torrents, reinforced by 24 hours of rain.

Not surprisingly, the footpath was more like a stream in most places. My non-membrane boots were getting a bit damp, but not uncomfortable. However, the sections with ferns were very wet, and overwhelmed any remaining water resistance of the boots.

Pictures l to r: false hope on Harter Fell, Nook Sike (?), looking south from near Nook Sike

There were few photo opportunities as the breaks in the rain were only brief. The wind was at my back, so I was protected from the worst. I was not looking forward to return leg as the wind would be in my face. I hoped that the weather might have improved by then.

There didn’t seem to be a mad rush, so I sauntered along, trying in vain to avoid getting my boots too wet. Foolishly, I had put my SealSkinz waterproof socks at the bottom of the pack. I made a mental note to change into them at lunch time.

I considered whether to stop at Measand End to camp, but that seemed like too short a day. While I wouldn’t choose to walk in rain, there is a certain masochistic pleasure in ploughing on regardless.

Yet again, Paramo was proving to be the most comfortable rain gear. My new 3^rdElement was coping admirably. Although feeling a bit damp occasionally from sweat, it dried quickly. I’m constantly amazed at how good and how adaptable Paramo waterproofs are. I was wearing my Montane Atomic DT overtrousers for the first time and they were also proving to be more comfortable than I had anticipated. It’s impossible to be completely moisture free in overtrousers, but they were doing a good job.

After a very pleasant two and half hour ramble, I had lunch just before Burnbanks. Along the lane ran a wall, which was convenient to shelter behind out of the wind and rain. I put on an extra layer of warm clothing and tucked into my pitta bread sandwiches (cheese, peanut butter). Some sheep came running up the lane and paused before reaching me, seeming uncertain as to whether I was friend or foe. Cautiously, they edged past me.

A few minutes later I saw why they were a bit worried. A family accompanied by two boisterous dogs walked past. One of the dogs showed an interest in my sandwiches but was called away. It was a bit more obedient than my dog.

I changed into my SealSkinz, thankful to feel dry feet again. I girded my loins for the return trek as it would involve mainly road walking into a strong wind.

Burnbanks appears to be a small development of new cottages. I must say, I would be a bit nervous of living beneath a huge dam. The dam itself looks too slender to hold back the lake, but I’m sure the engineers did their homework.

After Burnbanks there is a footpath to the right, which cuts off some road walking. The sign said it was a part of the Coast to Coast walk, so I can say that I’ve now walked part of the C2C, even if it was only a few hundred yards.

After a slightly muddy interlude, it was back on to the road. The rain changed from blustery showers (albeit long ones!) to a more persistent “in your face” type rain that persisted until almost Mardale Head.

I had a quick look at the dam and the information board. I thought that it would be fascinating to have seen what it was like before the dam. I googled this web site (http://www.mardale.green.talktalk.net/index.htm), which shows the full tragedy of the flooding of Mardale. The new lake is nowhere near as attractive as the old one.

Haweswater isn’t even a very good place for a reservoir as its catchment basin is not large enough and it has to be supplemented by water from Ullswater and from Swindale and Heltondale. What chance did a few farmers have against the might of Manchester Corporation? The only (scant) consolation is that the lack of habitation makes it ideal for wild camping.

In a way I didn’t mind a road walk as it made for fast progress. As I was wondering why there was no matching footpath along the lake shore on this side, lo and behold a footpath appeared. This was in honour of Bill Foster who was the director of conservation at North West Water, who died in 1992.

This has got to be better than road walking, I though to myself. Wrong. It was very wet and slippery and the path was overgrown in places. No doubt on a dry day, it is a lovely walk, but when it’s hammering down with rain….

At the next gate, I went back to the road. After the Haweswater Hotel, the intensity of the rain went up another notch. The road became a river. Literally the whole width of the road was covered with a sheet of water flowing towards me.

Pictures l to r: Wood Howe, Rowantreethwaite Gill, Mardale Head looking northeast

 

A couple of times I had to shelter behind a tree from the spiteful rain driving into my face. As I neared Mardale Head, I met some scuba divers walking up the steps from the lake after a dive. I think they had the right idea!

The last half mile was marked by a torrential burst of rain. As I rounded the corner to the car park, it suddenly relented and the sky brightened. On reaching the car, the rain ceased and the sun shone (briefly).

I opened the car boot and dumped the pack inside. What to do next? It was about 3.30 and I didn’t really want to go home. I still couldn’t go high. I decided to go back to The Rigg. I wasn’t looking forward to pitching a wet tent. Fortunately I had my Akto in the boot, so I swapped tents.

Once at The Rigg, I explored the track to the headland to see if there was a more attractive spot. The only possible place had two abandoned barbecue pits full of rubbish. I didn’t fancy camping next to that mess, so I retraced my steps. Just as I finished pitching, you guessed it, it started to rain again.

On the menu was Pack’n’ Go Shepherds Pie, which was almost as unimpressive as the chicken pasta, especially as it was impossible not to avoid some dry bits at the bottom of the pack. The one saving grace was that it wasn’t quite as flatulence inducing as the previous night’s meal.

Although I’d walked about 11 miles, I didn’t feel particularly tired but I did ache, so sleep seemed like an attractive option. The ground felt harder than last night, but that was probably because I over inflated the Thermarest. The rain hammered on the Akto for most of the night and it was even windier than the previous night. An interesting contrast with the Comp was that the taught material around the pole acted like a drum.

The vents on the Akto seemed to prevent the previous night’s experience with condensation. To be fair it was also 2-3c cooler and less humid than the previous night. My sleeping bag was slightly damp at the foot end, so I was glad that I had swapped tents.

Tomorrow: homeward bound and reflections

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