There and Back Again

Those of you with a better short term memory than I, may recall I recently mentioned considering doing a 12 mile walk whilst the kids were at school, well I decided to chicken out.  After being a bit achey after covering a mere 5 miles, I wasn’t sure how I’d do with 12 so instead I decided to do a shorter section.

The predicted weather for the day wasn’t particularly clement and so I wrapped up warm, packed a few snacks for Bob and I, and headed off.  The walk didn’t start particularly auspiciously, once I’d parked up I realised I didn’t actually know where the walk started (my map reading skills aren’t great), so after walking around in a circle, with Bob dragging on his lead the whole time (a big failing in my training here) , I finally gave in and asked someone who looked local.  Thankfully the lady was really helpful, and gave me quite detailed instructions for the first section of the route, the majority of which I promptly forgot.  But at least we were off, and it wasn’t long before I was able to give my arm muscles a rest as I could let Bob off the lead.

The walk followed the Cumbria Way between Caldbeck and Sebergham (pronounced Sebrum – by me anyway, but I think it’s right) and so the route was pretty clear and easy to follow, and also pretty much free of any other walkers – though I did spot a dead mole on the way, which was quite exciting…perhaps not for the mole.

We strolled along in the autumn sunshine, which wasn’t in keeping with my rather dark mood that hadn’t lifted since being dragged around the village by Bob.  The inclement weather predicted never came to pass, meaning I was particularly well wrapped up and walking uphill in more than a couple of places – which is probably not the best combination for an, already testy, perimenopausal woman.  My hat and buff were quickly deposited into my bag, and the jacket swiftly followed.  As I cooled down, my mood lightened and I started to enjoy the amazing scenery we are lucky enough to have in abundance in this part of the world, across the valley the fells High Pike and Carrock veritably glistened in the autumn sunshine.

The first half of the walk passed pretty unremarkably, I’d decided I wouldn’t have anything to eat until the halfway point had been reached and so I trudged on looking forward to tucking into my packet of crisps, realising this is probably how the kids felt when J and I would set places for them to get to before they were allowed their chocolate.  We reached Sebergham in decent time, Bob went back on the lead to cross the bridge and have a look at the river (mainly because I felt, seeing as I’d walked that far, I should go to it, even though it’s a bridge I’ve driven over many times), and then we turned around and started to head back.  I’d noticed that there was a way to do a circular walk rather than there and back again, but I wasn’t sure whether to bother as it was likely over a lot of farmland, meaning Bob would need to be on the lead the whole way back.  The alternative route started off with a steep pathway through some woodland so I decided to go to the top, have a look, and if it was farmland just go back the way we came.  So off we went, up the slippy slidey muddy path, Bob charging ahead, but stopping regularly as if it to ask why it was taking me so long, I finally reached the top and confirmed it was farmland, so started off back downhill while Bob just looked at me a little confused, and then charged off ahead.  We started heading back to Caldbeck, when I realised that I didn’t have Bob’s lead in my pocket, I checked my bag, twice, and my pockets more times than you think it would be necessary to check relatively small pockets for a relatively long lead, it definitely wasn’t in there.  I knew I’d had it at the bridge and was praying that it hadn’t fallen out of my pocket on the completely pointless uphill diversion.  About turn and trudge back to the bridge, whilst having to hold Bob by the collar as we neared the road, no sign of it anywhere, I started to keep an eye out for baler twine lying around that I could take to make a lead for when we got back to Caldbeck, and wandered back to the base of the steep hill, cursing myself for deciding to walk up it in the first place, when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it, lying at the bottom of a pile of fence posts that I’d completely forgotten I’d stopped at to check out the alternative route back.  My mood lifted once more and we set off again, I spotted a bench next to the river and thought it would be a good place for a stop off for some food,  but once I reached it, it didn’t look the most stable and was right on the edge of the river, and so decided to hold off the crisps for a while longer, despite my now gnawing hunger, in favour of not falling into the river because, let’s face it, that’s the kind of thing that happens to me.

The route back definitely felt longer, and the uphill sections felt steeper, as my longing for the crisps (smokey bacon – I’m from the Midlands afterall) grew, eventually though I found a tree stump to drop wearily down onto and relish the bacon-ey goodness, which was well worth waiting for.  As I was messing about on my phone, finally preparing to leave, a group of ramblers appeared along the path, so Bob went back on the lead to avoid him leaping all over them, and instead he stood and barked at them – demanding what exactly they thought they were doing on our path.  I apologised and let them pass, then had to sit and wait a while, hoping they’d make up enough ground that we wouldn’t catch up on them.  Unfortunately this wasn’t to be as, like any good team, they kept stopping for their slowest member, and so after only one short field I’d managed to catch up with them, Bob on the lead, but desperate to say hello to all of them.  I scurried past quickly saying “sorry…he’s just a puppy…he’s very friendly” while Bob dragged me all over, like a ragdoll.   Once past though we were both relieved to take the lead off and he trotted ahead, it wasn’t long before we reached the outskirts of Caldbeck and I noticed something moving in the undergrowth next to the path, I stopped and a beautiful red squirrel jumped up into the trees and started running across the branches.  I attempted to take a photo at one point when it seemed to stop and pose, just long enough for me to get my phone ready, and then as I took the picture it legged it.  It was a good end to, what was at times, a rather trying walk, though a squirrel picture would have been even better.

Bob must have been feeling a little jaded as he actually jumped into the car with very little fuss, when normally I have to get in, shut the door, and sometimes even start the engine, before he’ll consider making the slight leap in, and then we headed home, a slightly tired dog and his much more tired owner.