Devoke Water

Car to lake: 0.5 miles from Eskdale/Ulpha road

Round the lake: 2 miles

Time taken: 1 hours 20 minutes (including stops for photos!).

Elevation: Approximately 770 feet at start.

If Darwin's theory of evolution is true, then no West Cumbrian would surely ever leave home without his waterproof trousers. Even on the sunniest of days, some deeply embedded instinct, honed through millennia of soakings, would prevent him from the ludicrous optimism that allowed me to get in the car this afternoon equipped for nothing more than a light, intermittent drizzle.

Turning off the A595 at Gosforth I could see the clouds thickening over towards Eskdale and by the time the road over towards Ulpha levelled out on Birker Moor, it was raining. When I reached the crossroads where a left turn was signposted to Stanley Ghyll, and the unsigned road to the right led to Devoke Water, it was raining so heavily that I didn't want to leave the car. For a minute I sat and pondered but, secure in the knowledge that it could only wet me as far as the skin, and convincing myself that it had eased a little, I began my trek.

No question really, only a wimp would cancel a walk because of a few raindrops!

Once parked at the crossroads, the short walk to the edge of Devoke Water follows a fairly good, firm track with grass up the middle. Climbing only very slightly, the lake comes into view after only five or six minutes from which point the track descends again almost to the water's edge. I can't say it's a particularly attractive piece of water because it's not; the landscape in which it sits is fairly featureless fell and nothing much is visible beyond the lake itself as there is little rise in height before the land falls away again in the general direction of Ravenglass.

 First glimpse of the lake just before the road reaches it maximum height.

As you approach the lake, the reason for the hard road becomes apparent; a boathouse!

Ten or twelve minutes into the walk and the usual decision had to be made - clockwise or anti clockwise? The road seemed to make the decision for me and I followed it along the eastern shore, in a clockwise direction, as far as the boathouse. This appears to be a pretty sound structure right up to the water but, on its landward side, is a roofless, dilapidated part that looks as if it has been that way for some time. At this point the hard, relatively dry road comes to an end and you are faced with a wet patch that today resembled the bottom of a number of small streams all making their way into the lake.

 

The boathouse - presumably used by whoever owns the fishing rights. 

Being in possession of a good dry pair of boots, if not waterproof trousers, I picked my way across these raging waters and round to the south shore. The terrain then settled into a pattern; stretches of boggy, wet, grass punctuated by further streams of water emptying into the lake. Most streams were either shallow enough to be waded or narrow enough to be stepped over but one required a run and a jump which, I'm pleased to say, was completed without incident.

There was another party of walkers behind me at this point but they seemed to disappear in another direction and for the rest of the walk it was just me and a few herdwicks. Even they looked little brassed off with the day's weather!

A lone herdwick across the stream which had to be jumped!

Finally, at the extreme western end of the lake you reach a stream which actually flows out of the lake. Presumably it has to carry a quantity of water approximately equal to the sum of that carried by all the streams flowing into the lake so it was no surprise to find that it was considerably deeper and wider than any of those. Left in its natural state it may well have proved an insurmountable obstacle to any circumnavigator of Devoke Water who wasn't prepared to wade across up to his waist. Luckily, a set of very sturdy stepping stones had been laid just a few yards downstream and I was able to enter the last stage of my walk without difficulty.

By now, a very heavy shower of rain had soaked through my jeans and water had started to run down the back of my neck. It was not comfortable and I wondered if the cloudy but dry day, with bursts of warm sunshine, I had left at home, was continuing. I concluded it probably was.

By the time I reached the point where water flows out of the lake, the bad weather had worsened 

I think this was my third or fourth visit to Devoke Water over the last 30 years or so and this is typical of how my feet have looked on every occasion.

The path, if it can be called that, along the northern shore continued in similar fashion and the views across the lake varied little as I made my way back to its northeastern corner and onto the road which would lead me to the car.

As I made my way back, splashing through water, avoiding bogs (almost) and trying desperately to use my camera without getting water in it, the cloud lifted a little, the rain stopped and, for a moment I thought I might be rewarded with a little sunshine. Alas, it was a case yet again of ludicrous optimism; the glimmer of brightness spotted in the east faded, the rain came down and normal services was resumed!

A glimmer of hope, as the murk lifted a little.

The wet weather reminded me of a bit of Birker Moor trivia. 

It was but a few miles from here on a similar day in 1940 that German pilot, and escaped prisoner of war, Franz von Werra was recaptured. If the subsequent 1957 film, "The One That Got Away" is to be believed, he was so wet and cold that he was pleased to be caught. Von Werra was later transferred to a camp in Ontario, Canada but managed to escape again making it back to Germany via the USA, Mexico, Brazil, Spain and Italy. Some good shots of Grizedale Hall, where he was imprisoned, Ulpha and Crosbythwaite can be seen in the film which starred Hardy Kruger.

Escaping didn't do Von Werra much good in the long run; not much more than a year later, in October 1941, his plane crashed off the dutch coast and he was killed.(at least, according to his "wikipedia" entry)

Bleaberry Tarn

Car to lake: 1.7 miles from Buttermere village

Round the lake: 0.25 miles

Time taken: 3 hours 50 minutes (including ascent of Red Pike), Estimated 2 hours if returning from Bleaberry Tarn.

Elevation: Approximately 1,300 feet from the starting point.


I first saw Bleaberry Tarn from the summit of Red Pike in 1972 during a walk from Black Sail to Croasdale with a schoolfriend and a terrier. Equipped with only a pair of stout boots, a mars bar and a can of fizzy drink each, we completed the walk in a more or less exhausted condition in about six hours. Having had Sunday lunch before leaving home, I just made it to school the next day while my companion, who later admitted to having eaten only a light breakfast, didn't. Nevertheless, we both survived to adulthood, remain good friends, and I at least, remain a keen fell-walker.

Today's walk was shorter and unlikely to be traumatic, as it began with the sole aim of reaching Bleaberry Tarn, walking around it, and returning to the car. Forty years of experience and a degree of common sense also meant I had a rather better idea of what I was about to attempt!

     

Bleaberry Tarn as pictured by a 14 year old with a kodak instamatic in 1972! 

As it was Easter Sunday I decided to start early and beat the crowds and so I parked in Buttermere village a little after 8am and set off past the Fish Inn and along the road towards the Lake. Having reached the Lake and following the path through a small gate onto the track which leads around it, you need to make an immediate right turn up what looks almost like a staircase through the trees.

I have mixed views about man made paths in the Lake District; this one seems very artificial with its well positioned stones but, as I was to find out later, the route is so popular that a path would otherwise develop of its own accord. Such a path no doubt would be more intrusive and, given the rocky terrain, even more likely to result in twisted ankles.

The climbing starts almost immediately and is fairly relentless until long after the path emerges for the trees and begins to zig zag up the fell side. The tarn lies in a depression about two thirds of the way up onto the High Stile, Red Pike range which separates the Buttermere and Ennerdale Valleys and there isn't an easy way up - you just have to get your head down and walk. Very good for the calf muscles!

The compensation, as is often the case, comes in the form of spectacular views down in to the valley below and, later, along to Crummock Water and beyond.

Buttermere and Fleetwith Pike. Early morning clouds soon gave way to clear skies - unbelievable weather for a bank holiday!

I did meet one or two people on the way up, but my early start meant that most of the time I was alone and could walk at my own pace, stopping as appropriate to soak up those views.

Eventually, the path took a left turn over the crest of a hill and began to level out. On my right was the stream which flows out of Bleaberry Tarn and which I had crossed earlier just a few yards from where it enters the Lake. With Red Pike now clearly identifiable ahead of me to the right, and some impressive crags straight ahead and to my left, I could guess where Bleaberry Tarn was but couldn't see it. In fact it doesn't become visible at all until you are within a few yards and then it appears; on this Easter morning almost completely still and, with only two other people within sight, perfectly silent.

After gazing upon it for a few minutes I set off on the short trip around the tarn - electing to do an anti clockwise loop!

The view from half way round - it reminded me of one of those infinity pools you see advertised in holiday resorts! From this angle, you could be forgiven for thinking the Buttermere valley didn't lie between you and the fells around Newlands Pass in the background.

The circuit of Bleaberry Tarn took twelve minutes, including a stop to take pictures,(with my 'phone as I'd brought my camera but left the battery plugged in to its charger at home!) but by the time I returned to the point where the beck leaves it, there were a couple of other walkers with two Alsation dogs and two or three other groups beginning the next section up to the aptly named Red Pike.

The aim of my walk achieved, I sat down to enjoy a drink and a snack and pondered over whether to continue up to the top. As I'd completed two thirds of the climb, and remembering the views from the top, there was little doubt and so I began the climb.

For the next hour or so the climbing was relentless and, not having been out hiking for a little while I stopped often. In fact I stopped far too often. About half way, there is a grassy bit which allows you to veer off to the right and to enjoy a great view out over Crummock Water and I took this detour and sat down to gaze on the sunny vista below.

Crummock Water with Melbreak on the left and Grasmoor on the right.

Returning to my task, I continued up the last section which, by now, was getting rather busy. Overtaken by a skeleton of a woman in shorts I felt rather unfit and slow, half expecting to suffer the embarrassment of some young hiker offering me assistance as I struggled to make progress up the badly eroded path. The final section to the summit of Red Pike is almost a scramble and not for the feeble!

I made it however and joined quite a crowd milling around the pile of stones which offered only a little shelter from a biting wind. A short walk beyond the stones gives a view of Ennerdale Water, equal to that of Crummock a little earlier, making a total of five major lakes visible from within a few yards the same spot. (Ennerdale Water, Loweswater, Crummock Water, Buttermere and, in the far distance, Derwentwater).

 If you've not been here before, its a good idea to add a walk southeast to the next summit, High Stile. While the views aren't any better, they are different and the rocky landscape quite striking. On the opposite side of the Ennerdale valley, Pillar and Great Gable are not far away and alternative, dramatic, views down into Buttermere are also there for the taking.

The whole area, being over 2,500 feet above sea level, is quiet wonderful and allows you to see pretty much all of the central fells.

Ennerdale Water from the summit of Red Pike

By the time I began the descent back to Beaberry Tarn there was a steady stream of walkers heading in my direction and a crowd seemed to have assembled at the tarn itself. 

Bleaberry Tarn from the Red Pike Path

Some walks are diminished if you are obliged to return by the same route but his isn't one of them. The landscape in all directions is so good that the opportunity to view it from a different perspective, and even with the sun higher or lower in the sky, is a bonus to be appreciated.

By the time I was on the last section, back on that man made "staircase", I was overtaken by, and then overtook, the cyclists I'd met on the top. I saw at least one go over the handlebars (well, what I actually saw were his feet in the air where his head should have been) and I had to admire their spirit of adventure!

An intrepid cyclist making his way through the steady stream of walkers by now heading up Red Pike

 Buttermere

Eventually, I arrived back at my car about four hours after leaving it. A fine walk had been enjoyed in bright spring sunshine and Easter sunday lunch beckoned!

Rydal Water and Grasmere

Car to lake: 0.1 miles (White Moss car park to Rydal Water)

Round the lake: Rydal Water  2.5 miles, Grasmere 2.75 miles, Together (our route) 6.25 miles

Time taken - whole walk: 3hrs 45 mins (including frequent stops)

"We wandered lonely with the crowds

that swarmed o'er dale and hill.

Quite unlike the Wordsworths,

old Dorothy and Will"

Rydal Water and Grasmere, lie in the heart of tourist Lakeland, in the area forever associated with the late poet laureate,13 miles from Keswick and 8 from Windermere. It was a bright winter Saturday but, we thought, it's January, the place won't be too busy. As we drove south from Dunmail Raise however, it became clear that finding somewhere to park wouldn't be easy and we were right; the lack of spaces forced us to fork out a fiver for four hours of parking at the White Moss car park which lies mid way between the two lakes.

White Moss car park - including waterfall

Across from the car park are a number of walks through trees and along a river bank which can lead you to the shore of either lake in just a few minutes. We chose however to walk a hundred yards or so along the roadside towards Rydal before turning left and following a path up a steep climb to join a higher level route above Rydal Water; thus gaining some decent views over the lake to the fells on the other side.

It was a pleasant walk along a good enough path, sometimes among trees and sometimes in the open. At one point there were a number of seats with elderly walkers sitting on them enjoying the view - given the gentle terrain and the number of people around, we already knew this wasn't going to be an intrepid expedition!

Rydal Water looking over the road from the first half mile or so of our walk

After some time the path led us towards the back of a very old looking house with rather well kept gardens. A sign, referring to a teashop which was closed, revealed this to be Rydal Mount, the home of Wordsworth from 1813 until his death in 1850. It was here that he wrote many of his best works including "Daffodils". Fat chance he'd have of walking "lonely as a cloud" these days - ironic, really, that writing of his solitary walk has played a part in making it all but impossible most days of the year.

Rydal Mount

Despite that, our walk was most enjoyable and we meandered merrily down the hill towards the main road, detouring slightly to take a look at Rydal Hall; a fine looking victorian mansion with formal gardens and a stone "grotto" from which you can view a rather impressive, if small, waterfall. After our recent rains, the beck was in full flow, and the waterfall was worth the detour.

Not Niagara, but a nice enough sight on a sunny day.

Crossing the main road, and walking back towards Grasmere for a few yards, we joined another track which led to the eastern end of Rydal Water and round to the opposite side of the lake. It is one of the county's smaller lakes but, nestled among equally diminutive hills, it sits in perfect scale to its surroundings and is a pleasing rather than impressive sight.

Our walk took us along the lake shore for a little while before climbing up behind a stone wall and to a point where we had a choice; turn right and return to White Moss, thus completing the circuit of the lake, or continue to the crest of a hill where we'd look over Grasmere towards Dunmail Raise. It was still early in the afternoon, the sun was shining and we had really not walked far, so we chose the latter.

Rydal Water, looking across to the fell along which we'd walked earlier

The path now took us along Loughrigg, high enough above Grasmere to give a fine view over the lake, Grasmere village and over to Dunmail Raise with the "Lion and the Lamb" rocky outcrop on the left. When I was young, these rocks were said to resemble a lion and lamb from one side and an old woman playing a  grand piano from the other! A certain amount of imagination is required to see either.

We then decided to follow this path along the fellside to where it enters some trees and eventually joins the road which leads to Grasmere village. An alternative would have been to drop down to the lake and follow the shoreline path; this doesn't go all the way along to Grasmere village, but obliges the walker to leave the shore and walk up to the same road about three quarters of a mile outside the village.

Grasmere from above

The walk along the road was pleasant enough, late on this January afternoon, but will not be so pleasant on a summer day when it will undoubtedly be busy with traffic - on foot and by car. We continued into Grasmere village, and treated ourselves to a hot chocolate before following the main road back to our car at White Moss. There is a footpath for most of the way (just under a mile and a half) but you do need to walk through the woods where the road turns away from the lake, as you approach the White Moss area and car park.

Winter sun on Grasmere during the latter part of our walk

All in all, a good, if unadventurous, walk through gentle and beautiful scenery. We walked slowly and stopped often; an hour could be cut from our time, I'm sure. No challenges on this walk greater than finding somewhere to have a pee! 

If I do it again, it will be very early one morning in June before the majority of visitors have woken up. Only then, I feel, will the landscapes that inspired Wordsworth be properly appreciated. 

Cogra Moss

Car to lake: 1.0 miles - from Kirkland Leaps
                   0.3 miles - from Fell Dyke

Round the lake: 1.2 miles

Time taken - whole walk: 1.5 hours 

The vast majority of Cumbria's 70 or so lakes and tarns are entirely natural and, many of the smaller ones in particular, are completely untouched by man. Some however, are the exact opposite; man made in the first place and modified by him subsequently.

Cogra Moss is one such place but none the worse for it. A century and a half or so ago there was no lake, just a flat piece of very mossy land where, I believe, sporting events occasionally took place. Then, in the mid nineteenth century, iron ore mines were developed in earnest and villages such a Arlecdon and Frizington, as well as Lamplugh itself, grew to the stage where they required their own reliable water supply. By building a dam at the western end of the "Moss" the area was flooded and a reservoir was formed to feed a public water supply which endured until the 1970's when modern pumping systems enabled the area to be supplied from the much larger Ennerdale Water over the fell to the south. The lake was drained sometime in the 1970's and the level lowered by a couple of feet or more giving rise to  number of islands which now look as if they've been there for ever.

For more on the history of mining in Lamplugh, visit www.lamplughheritage.org.uk

The first view of Cogra Moss approaching from Fell Dyke. The victorian iron fence runs the full length of the lake on this side.

Bounded by steep fells on three sides, Cogra Moss lies in a sort of amphitheatre shaped hollow on the extreme western edge of the Lake District and is best reached by turning off the A5086 Cockermouth to Egremont road at Crossgates or The Lamplugh Tip, Lamplugh. About a mile from either junction take the minor road past the caravan site where you will find a car park at Fell Dyke or, as I did this morning, proceed a further half mile or so to park at Kirkland Leaps and follow the forestry track along the north side of Knock Murton.

After ten minutes or so you reach a  gate after which the path forks; to the right it climbs up through some trees, to the left a more level path skirts around them. Take either one, the two paths meet again two or three hundred yards further. At this point you are looking down onto the lake a couple of hundred feet below and to reach the water's edge, you need to take a steep path known locally as the Donkey Trod. There is no evidence that this path is currently used by donkeys or any other equine species!

Cogra Moss and its little brother from the top of the Donkey Trod

As soon as you reach the edge of the lake, a decision needs to be made - at least if you are to walk around the water in an anti clockwise direction; it can be delayed until you are around the other side if going clockwise. Either you can cling to the water's edge or choose a slightly longer route by doubling back on yourself and crossing the head of the valley, back away from the water, and entering the forest. If you are nervous of swamps, or have non-waterproof footwear, choose the latter. Other than during a drought (rare events - the last one was in 1976) following the edge of the lake will be exceedingly damp underfoot - this place doesn't have moss in its name for nothing - it is no place for canvas shoes or sandals!

Indeed, it is likely to be wet underfoot most of the way until you reach the dam at the far end of the lake and you are unlikely to be troubled by hordes of hikers. There may well be an odd fisherman gamely trying to extract one of the rainbow trout with which the lake is stocked but even the fishermen tend to stick to the drier side of the water along the bottom of Knock Fell.

The view from the Dam end of the lake. Knock Murton, on the right rises so steeply that the right hand side of the lake is in shade all day in winter.

Having crossed the dam and climbed the stile over the old iron fence, you reach the gravel road shown in my first picture which provides access for the fishermen from Fell Dyke. (they have a key to a locked gate which prevents you or I from bringing our cars up to the lake). This road follows the shore of the lake for a short while before turning into a muddy path which leads to where the circuit began at the foot of the donkey trod. 

Looking across the water to Blake Fell. Had I not descended to the water's edge at the beginning of my walk, I could have followed a forest road along the side of Blake, before dropping down to the Lake through the trees in the sunny part of the picture. A longer but more rewarding walk.

A couple of fishermen in the 1940's when Cogra Moss was rather bigger and had no islands.

Once you've climbed the steep, but short, stretch up onto the forest road it is an easy walk back to the car. On your right is Knock Murton where the red spoil heaps of mining activity a century or so ago are still very evident and to your left the railway embankment gives a hint of how busy the area must have been when the mining was at its peak. Closer examination of the ground around here will reveal the remains of mine buildings as well as rather dangerous looking drift mines into the side of the fell.

The walk back, along the side of Knock, to the road. Much nicer in summer weather and coloured by the remains of iron ore mining many years ago.

All in all, a very pleasant walk but best enjoyed perhaps on a sunny summer evening and combined with a walk along the forest road above the lake itself or even a climb to the top of Knock.

Cogra Moss from above. Including some climbing in the walk will reward you not only with good views of the lake itself, but, on a clear day,spectacular views across the Solway Firth to Dumfries and Galloway.

Update
United Utilities have announced recently (Summer 2015) that they are reviewing the future of Cogra Moss. Apparently, to meet safety requirements, it will be necessary to carry out works to the dam in the near future if the lake is to be retained as it is. An option being considered is to "discontinue" Cogra Moss.This will involve removing the dam which will leave only a small remnant of the current lake - much like it was before the dam was built in around 1880.

Not surprisingly, this prospect horrifies anglers and others who enjoy this rather lovely little lake. They are urging all and sundry to write to Steve Magford, Chief Executive of United Utilities, United Utilities Group PLC, Haweswater House, Lingley Mere Business Park, Lingley Green Avenue, Great Sankey, Warrington WA5 3LP or to their local Member of Parliament. 

Further update
It seems the pressure exerted by various groups and individuals with an interest in Cogra Moss was successful! By the end of 2015 United Utilities had taken the wise decision not to proceed and, for now at least, the future seems secure. It just shows that huge corporations can be influenced by sensibly applied public pressure and, I hope, that they accept a responsibility to protect such gems as Cogra!

Dock Tarn

Car to lake: 1.75 miles - from Watendlath

Round the lake: 0.5 miles

Time taken: 2 hours - Watendlath to Dock Tarn. Whole walk - Ashness to Dock Tarn, around it and back, 5 hours approx.

I have to admit, until today, despite living within 20 miles for 56 years, I had never heard of this place. Walking round Watendlath Tarn, however, led us along a path which, a sign indicated, would take us to Dock Tarn. It was unthinkable that we wouldn't follow it.

The path to dock Tarn - a 30 minute walk ahead with a short stretch of stiff climbing

After leaving Watendlath, the path leads out onto open fell and gives a choice of keeping right for Rosthwaite or left for Dock Tarn. I can't imagine why I've never heard of it.

Although the route is well indicated, there's nothing to tell you how far away it is and we were prepared for the possibility that it might be three or for miles away and therefore difficult to do in time to get us back down before dark. Fortunately, we met a couple returning from it who assured us it was about half an hour further, and so we pressed on. The ground up here is generally quite wet but a path has been formed with large stones, one in front of the other; they can be a bit awkward but with just a little care all will be well.

The path eventually leads to a small gate, beyond which there is a steep climb for several hundred yards before it levels off to meander between rocky outcrops for maybe a quarter of a mile before reaching the tarn. Shortly after the end of the climb, remember to bear left where the path forks to go either side of a hill.

Our first view of Dock Tarn begged the question; was it worth it?

It's really not much of  a tarn, very small, very calm and rather weedy looking. Following the path around it, such that it is, involves climbing over sometimes quite large boulders and the path is non existent for much of the way. For some reason, we arrived just as a party of a dozen or more walkers were finishing their sandwiches - quite bizarre it was, to see so many people in such a desolate looking spot.

Our second view failed to answer the question!

Frankly, the walk home was the best part of our trip to Dock Tarn, the views being more open and the downhill stretches being very welcome. By now the earlier sunshine was long gone and the day had taken on a greyish aspect. It was, however, reasonably mild and there was no wind so walking conditions were really quite pleasant.

Nice open views from the rocky downhill path back to Watendlath

Debatably not worth going to in its own right, Dock Tarn is probably better visited as part of a circular walk from Rosthwaite.

Watendlath Tarn

Car to lake: 2.75 miles - from the car park at Ashness Bridge

Round the lake: 0.5 miles

Time taken: 2.5 hours 

As it is a relatively small body of water, the walk to Watendlath Tarn was always going to be more important than the walk around it. You can drive right up to it, but it makes more sense to park two, or even three miles away, and walk.

Driving south out of Keswick on the Borrowdale road, you soon come to a left turn which quickly brings you to what is likely the most photographed single structure in the Lake District; Ashness Bridge.

Calendars, tea towels, place mats - this view has adorned them all since time immemorial.
Ashness Bridge, Derwentwater and Skiddaw.

Just a few yards further, among the trees on the right, is a National Trust car park where we  left the car and began the walk along the single track road. The road soon begins to climb and, after a brief period with open fields on one side, it re-enters an area with trees on both sides of the road and, on the right, what appears to be a cliff edge just a few yards into the wood. Shortly, another car park indicates a point of interest and a short walk through the trees brings you to another well photographed point; Surprise View.

Now I don't know about you, but, out for a walk near Keswick, high on a hill with an obvious open view about to appear, I would never have been surprised to find myself looking down on Derwentwater and across to  Bassenthwaite Lake and Skiddaw. Had I found myself looking down on the Isle of Wight, or downtown Los Angeles and its freeway system, then I'd have been surprised! But lakes and mountains? in Cumbria? No.

That is to take nothing away from the splendid nature of the view; it is quite magnificent and well worth walking over to see. Some Malaysian visitors we spoke to were most impressed and very proud to have discovered, we assured  them, one of the best views around!

The entirely predictable, "Surprise View"

Continuing the walk, we shortly turned off the road to follow a signposted path to Watendlath which led us through the trees and along the opposite side of the river. In bright, late autumn sunlight it was a beautiful walk along a well defined path and a better alternative than following the road which ran parallel on our left.

A better option than the road, even when traffic is light.

The path continued in this vein for almost two miles until we arrived at a small hump backed bridge over the beck which flowed out of Watendlath Tarn. Wandering round the small hamlet we discovered a house that claimed to belong to Judith Paris and a tea shop that was closed. Judith Paris, I learned, is a character from the Herries chronicles; a well known piece of literature set in these parts.

The tarn itself is pretty enough and today was exceptionally calm, the white-washed farm house reflecting perfectly in the still water. There being neither tea nor entertainment of any other sort, we set off back over the little bridge in an anti clockwise direction around the tarn. Then we hit upon a problem. On only my third lake in this project it became clear that walking right round Watendlath Tarn wasn't possible without breaking my own rule of not entering farmland where walkers were clearly not expected to be.

Not a ripple

The track around the right hand side of the tarn was a broad cart track but, as it faded into a footpath, it led away from the water and up onto the fell leading over to Rosthwaite at the head of Borrowdale. Only by climbing over a wall or two, walking across walled fields and risking an encounter with a possibly unhappy farmer were we going to circumnavigate this tarn.

Then we saw a sign which altered our plans for the remainder of the walk; the path, it seemed, led to "Dock Tarn". We had reached Watendlath Tarn, we could see all round it and we'd walked half way round it, there was little to be gained by going where we shouldn't just to complete the job. Instead, we would carry on and visit Dock Tarn.

A good track round one side of the tarn, but none round the other

By the time we'd done Dock Tarn (see next post) and returned to Watendlath, it was late afternoon and we chose to walk back to Ashness along the road rather than the footpath. This was fine, as there was little traffic and we reached our car in almost exactly an hour.

Evening comes early at the end of November and by 3pm light is already fading