30th July 09 Burnmoor Tarn
Another long, soggy underfoot climb up from the The Woolpack Inn, this time arrived at via the extremes of Hardknot Pass where the lesser motorist reversed gingerly from inclines and bends that proved too great. Richard, however, knew the road, although I was glad to arrive and park up.
Walked up passing Eel tarn again, now seemingly nearer in the brighter light. We likened it to a daily commute along a familiar route.
New boots bore me well along sodden floating ground and running streams. Black beetles fought battles for control of small piles of sheep shit in heroic struggles that had the appearance of mating rituals.
Before we set off, Richard shared with me the fact that there were pike in the tarn. He said he did not want to carry the knowledge alone. I thanked him for sharing the information. All the way up, my brain could not let drop the image formed and it was only when I had entered the water – clear and brisk under the westerly wind – that I let go the anxieties with more immediate, existential matters on which to focus.
The walk back down was twice as hard going and we both felt the distance after a good cool swim. A chilling breeze, even in warm weather, makes demands that are not always immediately apparent. We wore warm hats and jackets where other walkers out that day looked sideways at us in their short sleeves.
The pub was consistently refreshing and we made the return route via a different, easier road.
Two days later my legs still struggled up and down stairs.
Paul
