Over Loughrigg

We set off again through Rothay Park and across Miller's Bridge to Brow Head. Shortly after turning right onto the lane to Rydal Water we turned left along an ascending lane via Miller's Brow onto Loughrigg Fell. We had to shelter behind a wall for five minutes as a hail storm crossed over us. We climbed up the fell, stopping at each new crag to take photos of the view of the lake and surrounding fells, and reached a tarn so small that it wasn't even called a tarn on the map. We watched the water beetles chasing each other and causing refraction waves around the cairn, strangely sitting in the middle of the pool like an Andy Goldsworthy sculpture.

Over the brow we reached a larger tarn with more beetles and rushes. From here we walked along a bridle way keeping the dry stone wall to our left. We had good views of the River Brathay and stripey newly mown fields down in the valley. At a path crossroads we turned left onto a major path and descended to Loughrigg Tarn. Walking along the north side of the tarn we saw a very newly born lamb staggering to it's feet for the first time and fumbling towards it's first feed from a very tired mother. We saw many more trembly lambs in the next few fields, but none were quite as new born.

The tarnside path led onto a lane and then down to the main road, passing a stream with a waterfall on the way. Anywhere else this would have been a substantial fall, but when considered alongside our later torrents, this was a little trickle. After a short walk on the main road we joined the Cumbria way, walking through another be-bluebelled wood, the path cleverly dividing the wild garlic plantation from the bluebell groves.

The path led down to the shore of Elterwater and the banks of the River Brathay, which was in full spate (probably because of the previous night's rain and the hail storm we'd been caught in earlier). It was clear that the water level had risen very quickly so the kingcups and wood anemones were submerged in places. We ate our lunch on a damp bench, wrapped up in our waterproofs again, hoping that the water wasn't going to rise too high and sweep us off in a Mill on the Floss type tragedy.

We left the river bank and turned left across the bridge on the outskirts of Elterwater village, continuing along a quiet road to Fletcher's Wood, stopping along the way to look at the ferns and mosses growing on the walls. We took a path climbing up through the wood, passing eerie mossy stones and yet more bluebells. On emerging from the wood we crossed pasture land by High and Low Hackett farms joining the road again at Iving Howe (we weren't sure if this was a bad pun on a Walter Scott novel). We were restrained and didn't buy any plants from their doorstep (largely because we'd have had to carry them all the way home and our rucksacks were now full of drying out waterproofs).

Our next waypoint was Colwith Force. We reached the north side of the falls having continued down from Iving Howe on the road and then scrabbling about in some scrubby forest. The view from this side wasn't too good, partly because it was obscured by some derelict buildings (that Paul thinks might have been something to do with sewage, although I think you'd be daft to put a sewage plant near a waterfall).

It was clear that the view was going to be better from the other side of the falls, so rather than swimming/flying across, we walked down the road to a T-junction, turned right, crossed the bridge and then climbing a stile joined a path ascending through a conserved old oak forest. We were rewarded with crashing sounds and magnificent views of the falls. In the distance we could hear the sounds of chainsaws being used to conserve the forest (removing spotty sycamores and other interlopers).

We descended through the forest again and crossed the road to join the Cumbria way to Skelwith Bridge. Before reaching the bridge we took a path to the left, leading us along the river to Skelwith Force. Again we chose the less travelled road and emerged on the opposite side of the falls to the viewing platform (so we probably appear, covered in mist, in other people's photos). We spent some time watching the water gouging deeper into the rock. Finding that he hadn't quite got the perfect picture of the falls, Paul then scrabbled over mossy boulders onto an island in the middle of the river and then snapped away (for some time).

We walked back to Skelwith Bridge, then rather than returning to Ambleside along the direct but car-laden main road we took a country lane up to Skelwith Fold and then along Bog Lane where we spent some time watching a heron stalking in the flooded margins of a field. We also saw the very same stripey field that we had spied from up on the fell. A short stretch along the main road at Clappersgate preceded our arrival back home in Ambleside.