Tuesday 19th March 2019 - north of Ings
I read maps like some people read books (I do read books as well).
This morning, after looking at the news on my computer, then catching up with blogs I turned to Memory Map. With Pete I have walked in the area shown on the map below and noticed a little hill with rocky outcrops above the highest point on the road, but being restricted to tarmac with Pete I didn't have a chance to explore further and have always intended to go back. When I studied the map this morning I noticed a large unnamed tarn, actually a reservoir. It lay in a bowl on the other side of my little hill and there was no public footpath for a large area surrounding it and I reckoned it must be hidden from view from any public right of way.
Interesting.
A secret.
Must "hurry to the spot..."
From the hectic A 591 the contrast was sudden as I drove up the narrow gated road from Ings to find a parking spot. That is not easy with my Kia which is the best car I have ever had in all respects, except for its tendency to get stuck on anything other than metalled road - I have already had Green Flag out when Kia sank to halfway up its wheels on relatively benign grass only three feet off the road.
An easy-walking cropped turf path lead after a few hundred yards into a friendly wood with shafts of light slicing between the trees illuminating abundant bright green moss. I guess this is going to be bluebell heaven come the season.
At Yews farm I came upon a travelling farrier (sounds like an English folk song) who was shoeing a majestic shire horse in the farmyard. There were billows of smoke rising from this operation, but the horse seemed so relaxed and patient. I am wary of horses and have always thought it would be unfair on a horse for me to ride carrying my weight, but this big fella looked as though he could carry a whole rugby team without much effort.
Pleasant road walking took me past a smaller pretty tarn with two distant swans with several cygnets decorating the scene, and then I was at the high point on the road below the craggy hill. I was concerned when I saw a car parked with its occupant moving things from the boot. My little hill is not on access land and I feared I may have a problem. I saw this chap was equipped for fishing and we had a good chat. He was off to my secret reservoir, but skirting round my hill rather than going over the top, and my intentions for trespass were of no consequence to him. The reservoir is stocked with rainbow trout and rights are leased by Windermere and District Angling Club. This guy was as immersed in his passion for angling as I am for mine with walking. He told me his new year's resolution had been to go fishing at least twice a week for the year, and I asked if he was on target and he replied in the affirmative, so off we both went on our different ways chasing our differing aspirations.
I enjoyed the exercise from the steep climb onto my summit from where I had a grand view of my reservoir and the surrounding unique edge-of-the-Lake District countryside including the smaller tarn I had seen on the way.
A short downhill stretch on the road brought me back to the car. This modest 1.9 mile circuit, albeit with a lot of steep uphill, gave me more pleasure than many longer and more significant outings.
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Will have to go back here when the bluebells are out |
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My kind of horse |
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The first tarn with swans and cygnets |
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My little hill from where I met the angler. The summit is further back |
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My secret reservoir from the top of the little hill - I was slightly disappointed when I realised it was not a natural tarn (but only very slightly) |
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Looking back at the first tarn and up towards The Lakes proper |
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Looking back at my hill after I had descended |