The Lakes - Part 3 of 4

I awoke on Monday, legs aching, and headed out into the warm sunshine and The Langdales. Yes, the striking peaks of the Great Langdale Valley are what I remember most from my old school trip; The Langdale Pikes rising dramatically up from the Glaciated valley floor.


With the amazingly good weather, I optimistically had an idea that I might follow a trail up to the top of one of the Pikes (Harrison Stickle)...

I soon realised that I wasn't really prepared for such an expedition. Not being fit enough and not having a good map and compass, I decided to just head up the side of the cascading Stickle Ghyll river, up to Stickle Tarn.
This was quite hard work for an old guy like me! However, once rested at the Tarn, I continued onwards and upwards and tried to find a path up towards the top of the Pikes.

Of course I couldn't find one, so I headed further up into the steep valley of the river that filled the tarn. I had to cross the gushing water in several places and I slipped on the wet rocks a few times in the process.


Luckily all I got from my falls were a sore backside and a booty. Nobody was around to see my embarrassment. My audience just consisted of a few Sheep.
I swear I could hear them laughing. Shaggy Baastards.



Realising that I was being a tired stupid dumbass, walking on my own over potentially dangerous ground, I decided to stop, take in the view and make the long trip back down again.


I arrived at the bottom, totally worn out and hobbled to the nearest pub. It was only 3PM but they couldn't even rustle up a Cheese sandwich! Still, pint in hand I sat at an outside table staring up at the Pikes. 'Maybe one day', I thought, 'maybe one day'.