It was so good to open the curtains to blue skies this morning! I decided it was far too nice to go running, so I got dressed as fast as I could, and ran to catch the bus to Keswick. It's a beautiful 16 mile trip up hill and down dale - literally. Our bus made heavy weather of the first major climb up to the pass that overlooks Thirlmere - we were even overtaken by a farm tractor!

I'd noticed clouds beginning to gather on the horizon, so I was praying the blue skies would hold long enough for me to get up high. My plan was to take the passenger launch across Derwentwater and climb up Cats Bells, which is probably one of the most popular moderate hikes in the Lake District. I walked straight from the bus stop to the boat-launch, and was lucky to find the launch, Lady Derwentwater, just about ready to pull out.

Derwentwater has to be one of the most beautiful lakes - it's surrounded by some of the highest peaks in the area, and their slopes come almost right down to the lake edge. The glowing blue sky and the green peaks had me so happy and excited after days of gloom; I was bobbing around in my seat - so much so, that I kept accidentally kneeing the old man in front of me, for which I apologized when I realized what I was doing.

One of the beautiful views from the middle of Derwentwater

A Hopperesque view: well it would be if the boys had their shirts off :)

The launch only sits around forty people, and only five of us, all told, got off at Hawes End. I asked a young couple from Scotland if they knew which was the path for Cats Bells, but it turned out that they were hoping I knew the way! The other couple had, by this point, marched off confidently, so we assumed they knew the way, and we followed. The first mile or so was easy going, skirting the base of the mountain. By the time we caught up with the first couple, they were paused at a fork in the path: "Do you know the way to Cats Bell", they asked me!

Not too difficult a hike - at first.

Well, this mountain was either Cats Bell or it wasn't, but either way, I was going up it! Suddenly, a steep, narrow shale path branched off up hill - this had to be the main path to the top. It didn't take long before I was panting - after all, it's not every day I ascend almost 1500 feet. I know that's not so high in the scheme of things, but I haven't exactly trained for this :)

Half way up - the view to the top.

Getting higher, the views back started to open up. I could see all of Derwentwater set out beneath me, with tiny Keswick lying at the feet of the bigger mountains, Skiddaw and Saddleback to the north, and another lake, Bassenthwaite, to the far north-west of Keswick.

Finally, I was there, breathless, on the level, rocky summit, along with a few other hikers - I was very happy that I had my Cumberland sausage sandwich in a bag attached to my camera-bag! All around me were peaks: I sat down and just took it all in. The lakeland fells are beguilingly curvaceous until their upper ridges, which are sharp, almost savage. Yet the green, grassy blanket that coats the shoulders of the mountains takes the edge off that sharpness, and they stand there stone-silent, like friends who incline to seriousness but whom you know you can absolutely trust.

At the summit

As your eyes slowly sweep round, everything seems changeless. Yet, when your gaze swings back round to where it started, the clouds have shifted, the light has changed, and you see something totally new. I wanted to capture all this beauty and take it home with me. I guess that's why people take to painting.

Wow!

Heading back down.

Back down to earth, with very tired legs, I found I had a 45 minute wait for the next launch back to Keswick, so I made the most of it, and relaxed. It was very peaceful sitting there on the dock, feeling the breeze.

Waiting for the launch back to Keswick

Back in Keswick, I had some time to look around the town before the next Ambleside-bound bus, so I stopped in the Cumberland Pencil Museum, where the World's first pencils were produced, to buy some drawing paper and pastel-pencils. It's been a long, long time since I tried to draw, but I'm gonna give it a shot: probably tomorrow since, judging from the tightness of my legs, I'm going to be too sore to walk far tomorrow!

The bus dropped me about a mile outside Keswick, on a silent country lane which the driver promised would take me to Castlerigg Stone Circle. It felt like the middle of nowhere. By this time, the clouds had taken over the entire sky, and a cold breeze was coming down straight from the mountains. As I tramped along the lane, all I could here were the distant cries of sheep, and the wind in my ear. I felt kind of like Cary Grant in North by Northwest, especially when a jet-fighter tore abruptly through the air between the hills.

Alone on a silent lane, in the middle of a plain surrounded by the mountains.

Mind, there were some cows to keep me company too.

I might have missed the circle, if I hadn't suddenly been surprised to see a japanese face staring at me over the edge of a stone wall. Looking into the field within which he was standing, I saw the five-thousand year old stone circle, set on a kind of plateau, with the fields gradually sloping away on all sides to valleys that then leap up to the mountains. The grey wind seemed perfect company to see such a site.

Castlerigg Stone Circle

The circle is made up of thirty-eight hunks of volcanic rock, the tallest almost eight feet tall.

After seeing the circle, it was time to head home. I had a half-hour wait in a cold wind, by the roadside. But there was nonetheless a peace about just sitting there, watching the mountains.

A photo through a hedgerow, showing the daisies and the mountains.