A PLEASANT STROLL FROM GRASMERE, HMMM!

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Wonderful farmland views all around leaving the burial town of William Wordsworth, Grasmere this morning. Stone walls making a patchwork of the landscape. Sure enough before to long the calf muscles are starting to feel a climb.

Crossing streams and bridges along the way
Crossing streams and bridges along the way

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Even a waterfall crossing.

Looming ahead was High Craig and the mighty Helvellyn just under 3,000ft. Lots of little streams to cross over and of course wouldn’t you know it rocks till the end of the day. The path would often get lost amongst the larger rocks and if you looked up higher you could eventually see the path and head in that direction.

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Worth the hike up to Grisedale Hause for the view

Up and up towards Grisedale Hause and Grisedale Tarn.

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Grisedale Tarn

At the summit all of a sudden the wind blew up, so strong that at times it was very hard to keep balance, at this stage Helvellyn is out of the question to climb. Walking down past the Tarn onto the Grisedale Valley Route the wind deteriorated, becoming stronger and stronger. Crossing at the end of the Grisedale Tarn on small rocks I nearly had wet boots as the wind lifted me along.

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Rock crossing the Grisedale Tarn

Heading down into the valley the rocks became quite large and balancing and pushing forward with the wind made it very difficult. The markings of the cairns along the way are a welcome sight just when you might be thinking oops wrong way.

Cairns showing the way.
Cairns showing the way.

At last on the green valley floor, following a river with beautiful trees and stone walls guiding us to Patterdale.

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The  Patterdale Hotel is a welcome sight for tea and “the cake of the day ” before a few more kilometres onto tonight’s accomodation .  Also a laugh thinking how I wasn’t I blown off the mountain today.

Road block
Road block

Couldn’t leave without a favourite childhood poem

I wandered lonely as a cloud, That floats on high o’er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. William Wordsworth.

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