Or – More Talking Than Walking
Or – Fatuous and Arbitrary Annual Birketts’ Target Smashed Already Shock!
Saturday night was an eventful one in our tent with poor S chundering repeatedly on his mum and with rainwater inexplicably pouring in and soaking clothes (mostly mine) and various parts of the tent. It rained again the next night, but no more leaking so something of a puzzle there. With S still under the weather, TBH decided to take him home and As soon as she announced that intention B had strapped himself into his booster seat and couldn’t de persuaded to stay and camp.
A and I joined most of the rest of the group for a sociable walk up Barrow. We started late and hadn’t got far before we stopped again to climb this tree, which the children remembered from last year’s visit…
With the promise of an ice-cream reward from the Adopted Yorkshireman, the kids led the way up the long ridge of Barrow. Here they are, quite near to the top where the adults had finally caught them up.
The day before we had seen a dire weather forecast predicting low temperatures and frequent showers falling as snow over high ground. In the event we had quite a sunny day, with just one ferocious but short-lived hail shower before we left the campsite. Other than that the sometimes dark clouds just kept scudding through without depositing their load. There was a cold wind though and for the last part of the climb extra layers were needed. From the top we ducked down out of the wind a little for a short stop…
…where the bilberries were flowering…
My friends CJ and X-Ray, I later learned, were gleefully bagging seven Wainwright’s over in the Skiddaw massif…
They can’t be picked out in the photo. During the day, they probably discussed the relative fortunes of Everton and Newcastle United and possibly the relative merits of the Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins eras of Genesis. They can’t have talked as much as A though, who, it turns out, can still talk the hind leg off a donkey, even whilst climbing her very first Wainwright.
Meanwhile, since Barrow is also a Birkett – are there any Wainwright’s which are not Birkett’s does anybody know (does anybody care?), it seems unlikely – my total for the weekend reached six and my total for the year seventeen – which was my target for the year. Which leaves me with an ethical problem to ponder – should I refrain from bagging any new ones until January? Or perhaps set a new target – maybe double the old one, although 34, not being prime, is a much less satisfactory total.
It being a bank holiday weekend, there was a third day to our Lakes trip, but it being a Bank Holiday Monday, it was a wash-out. TBH brought B and S back and together we toured the Pencil Museum in Keswick. There were lots of pencils.
I kept another promise which I made to myself this evening and took a walk to Bottoms Wood. The street lights were already lit when I set off so I didn’t bother with the camera, but the abundant froth of garlic scented Ramson flowers didn’t disappoint.
Gorse flowers from the weekend – almost as strongly perfumed as the Ramsons, but coconut rather than garlic.