Lake District - The Beginning

The very first time I went to the Lake district was about 1985, when I was at Lancaster University. I was aware that it was close by, that I could sometimes see its distant peaks across Morecambe Bay from my flat. But for some reason I'd never made it up there until one summer day - during the long vacation, I think - I spontaneously decided the situation had to change. I wanted to go to the Lake District. At that period of my life I used to roam around everywhere on my trusty bicycle, and it seemed an obvious thing to take it up there with me. There was a rail service which connected to the Ravenglass and Eskdale mini-railway, and the latter would propel me into the delights of the Eskdale valley. Why Eskdale? I'd read somewhere that it was particularly remote, non-touristy, and idyllic.

I didn't do very much when I was there, apart from cycle around the valley, and walk up the Stanley Ghyll waterfall. But it was enough - a simple but glorious introduction to those miles of hilly, rural beauty:

Although I knew I liked it, I didn't manage to get up there much, for many years. The next occasion was with my parents, when they'd come up to visit me. It was more of a car tour with occasional stop-off strolls, but we still enjoyed it. Our stroll around Tarn Hows was my suggestion - I'd read that it was an especially beautiful area - and we stopped off for a quick stroll around Rydal Water:

A year or two after that I went with a friend to Keswick - or rather, just outside Keswick in Braithwaite. It was autumn, I'd just graduated, and I'd read - again - that Keswick was a good place. Braithwaite was just outside it and promised to be even more peaceful, although in hindsight it was not a good decision because we were walking everywhere on foot and the little hamlet was about a 30 minute trek along the road. We went up Catbells, which was the first real introduction to mountainous walking. The autumn colours were glorious, and Keswick became my primary location for many years - although many years passed before I followed it up. We had to walk long distances just to arrive at starting points, so Catbells seemd like a substantial expedition. It isn't, of course, and I've realised this only quite recently. After Eskdale, the next pictures I took were from Catbells, looking across to Keswick and down into Newlands Valley. Heh...I don't wear shirts like this any more:

For a long time, the Newlands Valley seemed a tame place of no great consequence; I read about one or two walks around the valley which looked pleasant, but not terribly exciting once you'd seen into the valley from above. I started to list and grade possible walks, and Newlands Valley was low down, a choice to make after enjoying more adventurous days. That's still partly true. I've never undertaken a Newlands Valley walk as such, although I have wandered around across different trajectories, as part of a wider plan. In 2002 I stopped off while driving somewhere else in order to explore the little church, frequently referred to in any description of this area. I am still fond of Newlands Valley, and still enjoy its particularly gentle beauty which I discovered in 1986: