Travel Biography - Week 47.

Arrival at the Lake District National Park.

With the 1991 bicycle ride of over 380 miles completed, there remains one more "staycation" before setting off overseas again: for two weeks in the Lake District National Park. This was inspired by our first visit to the park in 1990 when we, Gareth Philips and I, cycled through the park as part of our John O'Groats to Lands End bicycle ride.

Gareth and I wanted to return to the Lake District, and we had an opportunity to visit in 1992. But this time, our bicycles remain safely locked away at home whilst we did some trail hiking. 

I believe that Gareth had been to the Lakes before, that is, before 1990. That same year saw me passing through the park for the first time in my life. I was immediately impressed with the contrast between the mountains and the lakes. These, along with the streams feeding small-scale waterfalls that make the sound of rushing waters such a delight, especially whilst out on a picnic. The National Park is unique in having some English superlatives all within a few miles of each other. Examples of these are England's largest body of freshwater, Lake Windermere; England's highest pond from sea level, Red Tarn at Helvellyn; England's highest mountain, Scafell Pike; and England's largest National Park after Scotland's Cairngorms National Park, the largest in the UK. Therefore, it shouldn't be too surprising that my wish to include the Lake District National Park in this Biography.

Before I go any further, I would like to say that I visited the Park once again in 1999, just before I married Alex, where I hiked and went hostelling between Ambleside, on the northern end of Lake Windermere, to Keswick, just north of Lake Derwentwater. It was whilst I was on a hill overlooking Lake Bassenthwaite that the whole area darkened to twilight during mid-afternoon. I stood among others with me, looking through special glasses at a partial solar eclipse. However, that was 1999, thus, I'm jumping ahead here. Instead, I prefer to stick to 1992 when Gareth shared the experience with me.

It was quite unusual for us to take the National Express coach from London Victoria Bus Station rather than the train out of London Euston, but the ride was not only a pleasant experience but the journey was much cheaper on the road than on the rail tracks, hence, compatible with our budgets. But it took considerably longer and it was evening by the time we arrived at Windermere Hostel.

At the Lake District with Gareth.

Lake Derwentwater.

This trip was a hiking holiday. That means that on some days we walked from hostel to hostel. Other times, we completed circuit walks, starting and ending at the same hostel. Hence, on one of the days, we set off from YHA Helvellyn to reach the summit of Mt Helvellyn. This included a precarious balancing act on Striding Edge, from which we had a superb view of the Red Tarn, the highest lake in the park, and the whole of England, at 718 metres above sea level. 

The summit of the mountain was marked by a triangulation point, around 950 metres high. It was whilst we were here that the weather took a turn for the worse, with rain driven by a strong gale-force wind. Fortunately, we were both prepared and wore appropriate clothing to suit that kind of weather, but in turn, there wasn't much to see from the summit. The atmospheric conditions obscured what would have been glorious views.

The Throne of England.

Then our attempt to ascend what we affectionately called the Throne of England, Scafell Pike, at 964 metres, England's highest mountain. On our first attempt, we made our way from YHA Longthwaite Hostel towards the mountain (a fairly long trek) but I was feeling discouraged for two reasons. First, the inclement weather was hiding much of the mountain in low clouds. Secondly, We didn't pack enough food in our rucksacks, and I was anticipating the feeling of hunger during the trip, with no shop on the summit to restock. And so, It was I who asked to return back to the hostel if he agreed to try again the next day.

The fog lifts from Scafell Pike.

On the Throne of England.

The next day, we made a second attempt to hike our way up the mountain. Although the summit of the Pike was still in the clouds, I felt through instinct that all will be fine. We walked along with heavier rucksacks on our backs. This time, we made sure we were adequately supplied.

As we ascended, the trail cut into the side of the mountain, with a wall of rock on one side and a sheer drop on the other, very much like one of the trails leading into the Grand Canyon. However, the summit was still bathed in clouds but with the clear visibility of the trail in front of us, we pressed on. Eventually, we arrived at a flat level under thick fog. Another hiker, looking distressed, approached us moaning that he had climbed this mountain already several times and on each occasion, the summit was wrapped in clouds. He told us that he never got to see the views the peak offered.

Gareth thought that we had arrived at the summit. But through the fog, I was able to just make out a wall of rock ahead. I insisted that we need to press on. I was right. There was a significant length to ascend before we reached the summit proper, which was marked by a large cairn.

We weren't alone. There were several other hikers already on the summit before we arrived. However, it was soon after we arrived at the summit cairn that there was a drastic change in the weather - for the better! The fog started to lift, looking like huge plumes of steam rising from the valleys around us. Presently, the view of Styhead Tarn became visible, about a mile and a half north of where we were standing, nestling in Borrowdale Valley and overlooked by the Great Gable. However, to our south, Scafell rises, and it looked to our eyes that this peak was higher than the one we were on. However, after we descended to Lingmell Crag, by looking back up the mountain, we could see that the peak we were on, Scafell Pike, was the higher of the two. We stayed on the summit of Scafell Pike for a considerable time, admiring the views and having a picnic whilst sitting with our backs leaning on the cairn. Indeed, this was the Throne of England.

Lingmell Crag provided a wonderful view of a major body of water, Lake Wastwater. By then the sky was clear of all clouds and fog, the sun was shining, and the general panorama of the Lake District was at its best. I felt sorry for the hiker who gave up shortly before we had arrived at the summit and was beginning his descent. If only he stayed at the summit for a little longer.

Lake Wastwater as seen from Lingmell Crag

Lake Windermere.

Other Areas in the Lake District.

Along with mountain hiking - not mountaineering or mountain climbing by the way, as that is totally different - we walked through gentler terrain. Lake Grasmere was one example, that boasted two YHA hostels nearby, YHA Butharlyp How and YHA Thorney How. We managed to stay at each one at different times throughout the holiday. The lake itself was shallow enough to see the floor less than a metre below, yet it was an excellent venue for boating. One afternoon, Gareth and I hired a rowing boat for an hour.

Another site that was worth exploring was Lake Thirlmere, a ribbon lake that was once a natural body of water before it was turned into a reservoir to supply fresh water to Manchester. To the west of Thirlmere, we found a trail that took us up Armboth Fell, a hill covered in purple heather, to the beautiful Lake Derwentwater on the other side. This natural lake, just south of the town of Keswick, is rounder than most of the other ribbon lakes in the District, which makes the whole park resemble the spokes of a wheel when seen from the air. Also, Lake Derwentwater has an island that rises and sinks slightly, the last remaining evidence of volcanic activity in the UK.

Lake Ullswater is another lake  I was impressed with, as it was surrounded by higher mountains. The road that runs alongside this lake heads south over the Kirkstone Pass towards Lake Windermere, the largest body of water in England, eleven miles long and one mile at its widest, it's also the lowest lake in the National Park, just under 40 metres above sea level. It is also heavily commercialised, unlike most other lakes, with cruisers plying its length and a home for various water sports, including rowing and water skiing.

Wantendlath Tarn.

Red Tarn, the highest lake in England.

However, it was our accent to England's highest mountain that impressed me. There are two higher mountains here in the British Isles. Ben Nevis, at 1,344 metres, is not only Scotland's highest mountain but is also the highest in the whole of the United Kingdom. Then there is Mt Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales at a height of 1,085 metres. I guess this makes the UK so ironic in a geographical sense. England might have the largest land area, but its crowning glory is the lowest of the three. There is no English mountain higher than a thousand metres in height. Yet, Wales, which has a considerably lower land area than either England or Scotland, can boast a mountain higher than a thousand metres.

And all that has impressed my friend Gareth Philips.

Dramatic contrast: A stream and Great Gable mountain.

It was 1992, and somewhere in the Lake District, Gareth proposed a very challenging idea. That was to ascend all three mountains - Ben Nevis, Mt Snowdon, and Scafell Pike - within 24 hours. Would I rise to his challenge? Indeed, I would! After we had returned home, his proposal was put to Tim Kingcott and Keith White. Like me, Tim accepted the challenge while Keith volunteered to provide the transport necessary to meet the challenge.

And so it was agreed. 1993 was to be the year of the greatest physical and mental challenge we could ever face.

I returned to work, as Gareth returned to the bank he worked for. My window cleaning business trundled on, making enough to eat, drink, clothing, keep a roof above me, and stay warm. It was the phase of my life when little was put away towards savings.

I had a customer who was a close friend. I also cleaned his windows every month as I do with all other customers. One October morning, before starting the day's work, I had coffee at his home, as I usually do, and have done for some time. However, a wordy disagreement arose between us, and then not only had he terminated our window cleaning contract, but our friendship was paused for a couple of years, and I was seen as an object of disdain. I sauntered off to the next street feeling very down, defeated, and busted, where the rest of the day's work was to commence.

That morning, I was feeling very low. It was while I was up on the ladder that I had to pause, an incredible feeling came over me. In my mind, I saw clearly the city of Jerusalem from the summit of the Mount of Olives. With the vision came a request for me to go to Jerusalem, stand on the Mt of Olives, and pray over the city. I was given a week to stay there. I had less than a year to save up for the trip.

I prayed there and then, asking if I could have two weeks in Israel instead of just one. I felt that the request was granted. I felt excited. Once again, I would walk in the Holy Land after 17 years since my last visit there in 1976. Forget the Three-Mountain challenge. I'm going for better things!

From that morning onwards everything changed. Each week for the next ten months, I was able to put away £20 without any tightening of the weekly budget. The sum of money saved up by August 1993 paid for the whole trip nicely, with ample spending money.

And the start of a new era in my life.

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Next Week: A problem at the Airport tests my character.