Sheila's Caravan

Saturday 13th to Tuesday 16th October 2018

I intended to set off to the Lake District on Friday night after work but, with Storm Callum making its presence felt, I decided to wait until Saturday morning and travel in daylight.  Big mistake.  If I'd have gone on Friday night I'd have avoided the roadworks diversion off the A66 near Appleby and travelled round the back o' beyond.  If I'd have gone on Friday night I'd not have driven through flood water at Brough Sowerby (nice red sandstone bridges though) due to said diversion.  If I'd have gone on Friday night I could have spent the night in my car as the campsite was flooded.

So I set off on a very blustery Saturday.  I rocked and rolled down the M62 with side winds buffeting me and making steering really quite difficult.  I took a right turn onto the A1(M) and had a back wind - I don't think I used any petrol on this stretch!  After a leg-stretch at the truck stop at Scotch Corner I continued on along the A66.  The wind didn't seem too bad along here and I hoped I'd left the worst of it behind.  Hmmmmffff.  Pootling merrily along the A66 I kept noticing signs telling me the A66 was closed at Brough.  Having no faith whatsoever in those signs I carried on.  They were right and traffic got diverted off just before Appleby down a little country lane.  I'm not rightly sure where I was but I followed the trail of traffic and hoped for the best.  I passed a lovely red sandstone bridge with a very angry and swollen looking river roiling its way underneath it. There was probably only about 6 inches between the water and the top of the arches.  A little further on I spotted children splishing about in the floodwater coming off the fields and the cars in front of me started to turn around.  Shortly after that was "The Ford".  I'm sure it's not normally there but the river had obviously burst its banks, flooded the fields and was finding the lowest path down to somewhere lower.  I pulled up and studied it.  Being unfamiliar with the road I didn't know how deep the flood water was.  Luckily a landrover came in the other direction and I watched carefully as it trundled through.  The water was only halfway up the wheels so I let the water settle a bit and cautiously proceeded.  That was a bit bum-squeaky.  Safely out the other side I carried on and released my death-grip off the steering wheel.  I caught up with a big, posh horse trailer who was struggling on the small, winding road.  I was quite happy to sit behind this in second gear.  After crossing another beautiful red sandstone bridge I reached "Ford Number Two".  I watched the horse trailer go through and noted the water height.  Death-grip reinstated and bum tightly squeaked, I leaned forward and practically pressed my nose against the windscreen (because this helps, like it does driving in fog!) and tiptoed through.  This one didn't seem as deep and I got through unscathed.  Eventually I was pinged out somewhere near the big Penrith roundabout and continued uneventfully on my way. 

I managed to tune in to Radio Cumbria and heard that the Grasmere end of the A591 was closed due to flooding.  St Johns in the Vale was closed due to flooding. But no mention of the Naddle Valley where I was heading, even though I know it's prone to flooding. 

I reached the farm/campsite and stopped at the loos before heading to the caravan.  The view that greeted me was stunning.  Naddle Beck had well and truly burst its banks and flooded the surrounding fields.  The farm horse was stood forlornly under a tree on a little rocky outcrop in an otherwise flooded field.  The cattle were all on another little rocky outcrop.  The sheep were all up high on High Rigg.  Williams Beck was a stunning vertical waterfall gushing through the drystone wall as well as through its intended tunnel at the base.

Getting settled into the cozy, warm caravan, sod the cuppa, I needed wine!  I was still feeling unnerved by my journey and hearing and feeling the wind buffeting the caravan and the occasional squally rainstorm battering the roof didn't help calm me down. I kept having to turn the telly up for goodness sake!

The forecast for Sunday wasn't brilliant and I expected most of the fields and rivers would still be flooded so I decided to head into Keswick for some new walking shoes.  Every single shop I went in ....EVERY single shop I went in, didn't have anything that was suitable.  Too expensive.  Didn't fit right.  Weird "barefoot" sole (no separate heel - useless if you wear gaiters).  All flimsy and fabric and mesh.  Even the "new and improved" Meindl suede and nubuck shoes weren't suitable - no heel and didn't fit the same as my "old faithfuls".  Anyway, I'm expecting a parking ticket from Booths cos I was longer than the 2 hours you're allowed.

On a whim I decided to suss out parking for my Newlands Cloven Hoof walk and headed out of Keswick towards Portinscale and squiggled through little "blink and you miss them" villages.  I found a few parking spots, all of which charged £3 for a day's parking.  I could cope with that.  Just before I dropped down to the river I stopped and took this pic so I could have a study of the route I wanted to take:

I reached the river and the bridge which was lapping the road (the river, not the bridge) and decided not to go any further - I couldn't face potentially driving through any more flood water.  I wished I'd brought some walking clobber with me though as I would have done the little circuit round the valley.

Never mind.  I headed back, feeling happier that I knew where I could park and I was quite looking forward to an early start and a good walk tomorrow.

.... Only that didn't happen did it.  In the middle of the night I woke up with awful griping stomach ache and hot cold sweats.  And, well, 'nuff said.  This continued well into Monday and I didn't want to venture too far away from .... let's just say... facilities.

I am truly gutted.  Seeing as I didn't get much sleep, I watched dawn break in the Naddle Valley.  I watched the most beautiful cloud inversion wafting it's way up and down the valley.  I watched the sun break through and catch dewy spiderwebs.  I listened to the dawn chorus.  I saw the increasingly blue sky get bluer with little fluffy clouds.  Absolutely perfect walking weather.  Absolutely gutted that I couldn't (didn't dare) do my walk.

By late-afternoon I felt well enough to venture out locally for a little walk round the valley.  The floodwater had subsided as quickly as it had appeared and it was nice to be out.  I ended up doing a massive 2 mile walk.  I was exhausted afterwards.  No, seriously.  I was.

Some piccies from my epic 2 mile walk:

High Rigg

Skiddaw and chums

William's Beck

Just managed to miss a cuppa in the sunshine!

Looking down on the campsite

Not that you can see it but there's a Heron in the middle of this pic!

Blencathra catching the last of the sun

Helvellyn bedding down for the night

Tuesday had me tidying and cleaning the caravan and packing up ready for the journey home.  I was going to go and do the little Newlands valley walk but had to ditch that plan when one of the neighbours popped round and asked for help getting their dismantled bike out of the car and then put it back together again.  By the time we'd finished faffing with that and having a bit of a natter it was gone 2pm and I really needed to set off home.

So, all in all, a failed mission.  I'm gutted.  I've been feeling in fine fettle just lately and was really looking forward to a last adventure in the hills before winter and the campsite closes for the season.

I know, I know, the hills will be there next year but Monday was The Perfect Walking Day.

Not sure what's happened to the formatting on this one ....

Thanks for reading 😊