Whiteface Mountain and the ski station at the top of the gondola.
Our last day in the Adirondacks, for the foreseeable future.
We cheated and took a gondola up Little Whiteface. Under normal circumstances, that would have given us a launch-pad to ascend Whiteface itself, but the trail was closed due to drainage work being carried out in preparation for this winter’s ski season (which, I’m reliably informed, has now begun).
Lake Placid with Moose Island and Buck Island. Moose Mountain on the right.Posing on the top of Little Whiteface Mountain.Which is imported.A novel use of a viewing scope.
Later, we drove to Prof S’s cousin’s place outside Keene for a family get together and picnic.
Later still, we had a bit of a swim in the Ausable River…
The Ausable River near Keene.The Ausable River.
Prof A was doing a great job of organising various competitions and challenges for the two sets of DBs, involving leaping into and swimming under the water. I tried swimming upriver, but the the large boulders in the water made progress quite difficult, so eventually I abandoned that plan and had a wander up the riverbank instead, to see what I might find.
Could be Hemp Agrimony.
And what I found, I think, was a number of wildflowers from Europe which have naturalised in the US.
Orange Balsam?An Aster? This one might be native.Tansy?Purple Loosestrife – or something very like it.
I hope you’ve gathered, over the last few posts, that I really fell in love with the Adirondacks. I don’t know when I’ll be back there, but I really would like to visit again.
Fortunately, we still had a few more days of our trip to go, we’d yet to see our hosts new home in Buffalo. More to follow…
Just south of Stony Creek Pond there are two smaller ponds – Pickerel Pond and Rock Pond. On this particular morning Prof A and his lads were busy (I’m afraid I can’t remember what they were busy with) and Prof S had work to do, so we had a little family trip out together.
It was (or should have been) a simple affair: drive along a dirt road to a small parking area…
The dirt road.
Walk about a half a mile along a path through the woods…
Fungus.
Each day seemed to bring an even greater variety of shapes, sizes and colours of fungi. This day in particular seemed to yield some very bright specimens in reds and yellows, but once again many of my photos are blurred.
Weird looking fungus.Big fungus.
When we reached the lake a very faint path turned along the shore to the left.
Rickety ladder.
Although we didn’t see any other people whilst we were out, we did see this ladder as evidence that other people do come here. We were a bit puzzled by it as the water around the boulder seemed a bit shallow to jump in to.
The Rock Pond rocks challenge.
Prof A had challenged the DBs to get out to the farthest boulder without getting wet, which proved to be impossible since some of the stepping stones in between were submerged.
Rock Pond.
The pond is well named since it is surrounded by large boulders, with a lot more boulders in the water too. It was an idyllic spot, which, as I say, we had completely to ourselves. Amazing. B and I had a swim to the prominent boulders which you can perhaps make out in the photos above on the left-hand side. TBH and S chose to sunbathe instead.
And that should be where the story ends, except….
As we walked back, B and I waited just after we had turned away from the water, to see if TBH and S would attempt to take the non-existent path straight ahead along the lakeside. They did. I should have taken that as a warning.
For some reason, TBH lingered as we walked back and the DBs and I arrived back at the car without her. We waited. We waited some more. And then I went into full-on panic mode and ran back along the path shouting every few yards. When I say ran, I mean jogged obviously. As fast as I could manage, which is to say just a bit quicker than the boys who followed me at a walk. Nothing. Neither sight nor sound of TBH. Somehow she had managed to wander off the path. Fortunately, as we made our way back she heard us and disaster was averted. Phew!
Anyway, Rock Pond is a stunning spot for a swim and I hope I shall go back there some day. Next time however, I shall make a trail of breadcrumbs.
For our relatives a summer trip to the Adirondacks is as regular a summer fixture as our own visits to the Llyn Peninsula are for us. One tradition they’ve established is to rent a Pontoon, or Party, Boat and to spend a day on the Saranac Lakes.
Saranac Lakes Map.
This map gives some idea of the complexity of the Saranac chain of lakes. I liked this hand drawn one, because it picks out the Saranac 6. Incidentally, the body of water south of Ampersand Mountain is Ampersand Lake, which allegedly resembles an ampersand sign and hence gives its name to all of the many ‘ampersand’ features in the area.
To be honest, I’m a bit sketchy about our itinerary for the day, but I think we started at the marina on Lower Saranac Lake, travelled through First and Second Ponds and the lock on the Saranac River into Oseetah Lake, briefly into Lake Flower, retracing our route then into Middle Saranac Lake, via another lock, for lunch at Ampersand Beach. I’m not sure whether we ventured into Upper Saranac Lake or not. I do know that we stopped off at several islands for a bit of swimming and leaping into the water.
Captain A at the helm.
Don’t let the blue skies fool you, there was a strong wind blowing and for the first time on our trip it was really quite cool.
B takes the wheel.
It was great fun steering the boat and I think we all took a turn. It was safest when I was driving, not due to any nautical prowess on my part, but because that meant I wasn’t blundering about elsewhere on the boat. A couple of times I stood too close to the front, which over-balanced the boat, plunging the front under the water and leaving us all ankle deep. The boat seemed to handle that indignity with ease, but it was a bit alarming.
‘Little’ S takes charge.
I didn’t take any photos of the locks sadly, each of which we had to go through twice, partly because I was steering on some of those occasions and partly because it was ‘all-hands-on-deck’ when we went through to ensure we didn’t bang into the locks, the lock walls or any other boats.
W steering.
Given that the boat was essentially a very well-appointed raft, it was surprisingly nippy, although not when I was steering.
Bluff Island (on the right).
The boys had been hearing all about Bluff Island, and potential feats of derring-do, ever since we booked our flights, but initially we took a look and promised them that we would come back later.
Mist rising off the water – en route to First Pond.
Mist was rising off the Saranac River in a very atmospheric way, my photos don’t really do it justice.
A Bald Eagle flew along the channel ahead of us. It is in the photo below, but it’s so tiny you can’t really see it.
Bald Eagle – honest!In a channel.Mind those buoys.
All of the channels, and some parts of the lakes too, are marked out with regular buoys to show where the water is deep enough. Never-the-less, some sections were very shallow, and that, combined with submerged rocks in places, meant some real caution was required at times.
A view to Ampersand Mountain?
The boat had a fishing sonar and we had rods with us but I can’t recall anyone actually catching any fish at any point. Fishing was a regular activity during our trip. The boys did occasionally catch something, but not often. Their success rate was probably roughly on a par with Whitehouse and Mortimer, who seem to catch a solitary fish every episode.
Lakeside Properties.
There were lots of amazing lakeside properties and speculating on how much they might cost became a keen topic of our conversation.
Living on an island – oh boy we’re having fun.
Some of the properties were on their won private islands. In the photo above what you can see is the boathouse, the house itself is behind in the trees. The people sat outside in the sun on the patio looked very relaxed.
Captain A’s dream home?
I remember that my brother-in-law was very taken with this rather trim looking island property.
Lake views.Benches – very comfortable unless Mischief decided to share.
The boat was very comfortable. In the early part of the day lying down on a bench meant you were out of the wind, a definite bonus.
More islands.
After we’d had lunch we came back to this island. There were people picnicking there so we anchored next to one of the adjacent islands and me and the boys swam to have an explore. The island had a couple of campgrounds – they seem to be dotted all over the area. They each have a fire-pit and a toilet and can be rented out.
The picnickers moved on, so we then swam to the rocky little island and I think the boys found some spots for jumping in.
Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself, before we did all that, we landed at Ampersand Beach for lunch. The water is very shallow there and Captain A kicked the DBs overboard to tow the boat ashore…he may have been a pirate Captain in a previous existence.
Towing the boat through the shallows to Ampersand beach.Ampersand beach and Ampersand Mountain?
In some ways this photo is one of several which neatly encapsulate our visit to the Adirondacks: stunning scenery, beautiful beach, nobody about.
Beached.More Lake Views.And more.
We’d promised the boys a trip to Bluff Island and we made good on our promise, despite some misgivings. The next two photos are actually videos, if you click on them you’ll be able to watch them on flickr.
First, W and M jumping from a great height…
The mega leap.
And then the DBs leaping from far too high…
The mega-mega leap.
This seems to be a very well known spot, but not a challenge many take on. The DBs gathered a bit of an audience of other boatloads when they jumped.
After doing this jump a couple of times each, the DBs declared themselves satisfied. We motored a short distance to a spot with some rather more sedate opportunities for jumping in, tame enough that even I gave it a go.
We had a deadline for returning the boat, and all the other rentals must have been working to the same timings because as we headed into the marina there was a bit of a race to get in and secure a berth.
Heading back to the marina.
An absolutely fantastic day which will live long in the memory.
Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes.
Here’s B taking his turn with Prof A’s latest toy – a BB gun. Many coke cans were injured in the making of this post. I avoided joining in until pressed, and then, inevitably, was absolutely rubbish. Still, I’ve never felt threatened by coke cans, so I’m not too worried by my repeated failure to shoot one from very short range.
Harvestman – an arachnid, but not a spider. They shed legs to escape predators which is presumably why this one is missing one of its very long limbs.
We fancied a short outing; Prof A suggested Panther Mountain, which was both nearby and a suitably easy stroll.
Setting out.Just 0.6 miles!Chicory?
The roadside verges were resplendent with flowers. I think that these might be Chicory, which came to America with European settlers. Apparently, each flower is actually an inflorescence – a grouping of flowers, and each ostensible petal is in fact five fused petals and a flower in its own right.
Woodland fungi.
The woods, wherever we went, were full of toadstools of various sizes and hues and I took no end of photos. Sadly, most of them came out rather blurred, I’m not sure why, perhaps due to the deep shade under the trees?
The summit of Panther Mountain.
It didn’t take long to get to the top, from where there were partial views. Looking at the map now, I can see that Panther Mountain sits by Upper Lake Saranac, but we couldn’t see that at all.
Partial views.
As you can see it was quite cloudy. We were below the cloud because Panther Mountain is of modest height, about 2200 feet, which makes the climb roughly equivalent to climbing Arnside Knott, given the height of the surrounding countryside. Perfect for a short morning walk.
There was a Monarch butterfly flapping about, I think the first I’ve ever seen. I chased after it with my phone, with no success. Not to worry, I did come across…
Fox and Cubs.
…these Fox and Cubs, which have made the opposite journey from the Chicory and pop up in our garden. I was perhaps disproportionately pleased to find them in in their home environment.
Some things don’t change: whilst I was pursuing a butterfly, the DBs and their cousins found a boulder to take it in turns to scale…
King of the Castle.
The boys were persuaded to play hide and seek with their cousins. Meanwhile, my butterfly hunting had brought me down hill to a rocky edge from where I could just about see Panther Pond below…
Panther Pond.
And an expanse of misty woods and hills…
Adirondack woods.
Prof A was very good at naming the hills we could see from the hilltops we visited, but without written notes I have no hope of remembering what he told me.
More fungi.
Another thing which doesn’t change is B’s observational skills.
“Have you seen the weird dragonfly on this bush?” he asked me.
American Pelecinid Wasp.
I felt reasonably confident that this was more likely to be a wasp than a dragonfly; I was put in mind of the Sabre Wasp I once spotted near Leighton Moss. And so it turns out: this is a female American Pelecinid Wasp. She uses that long abdomen to deposit eggs on grubs living underground. A single egg on each larvae. Her offspring, when they hatch, burrow into the unfortunate grubs and eat them from within.
Descending.Scrambled egg slime?
I suspect that this is Dog Vomit Slime Mold, or Scrambled Egg Slime. I’ve seen this near home too. Apparently it has an almost worldwide distribution. Like other slime molds it can move in search of nutrients.
After our walk, and a bit of lunch, we had a little time before we had to take A back to West Stockbridge. Down to the pond obviously.
B and M sharing a board again.
M doesn’t stand for mischievous, but it easily could; he was always keen to deposit the others boys in the water at every opportunity.
A swimming away from the chaos.
TBH and I kept our distance from the high jinx in a canoe.
During our stay the boys came up with various challenges to try. Here S is attempting to back somersault into the water. Or back flip? I’m not sure which.
S somersaulting. It’s a video: if you click on it, you can find out how successful he was on flickr. (You’ll also hear me lying through my teeth, most unusual.)
This handsome frog was sheltering under the paddle boards by the shore of the pond the next morning. I thought it might be an American Bullfrog, but they’re huge, up to 8 inches I’ve read. I think this is the very similar, but smaller, Green Frog. The dorsolateral ridges running from the head down the sides of the torso are a distinguishing feature apparently.
Green Frog.
I think that this is a male, because the ear – the tympanic membrane – is larger than the gorgeous golden eye.
TBH and I needed another shortish outing because of our plans for the afternoon.
B and M share a paddle board.
So we took to the water again.
Here’s the pond…
Stony Creek Pond.
We were staying on the north side of the southern most bulb – we canoed northwards, past a beaver lodge, under the bridge, which required a bit of care, up beyond the little island almost to the northern extremity of the pond.
Little S taking it easy.Prof A.Our destination – a tiny beach.
We were heading for this little beach. The lake bed here was firm and sandy – perfect for swimming. By the boathouse the lake has a deep layer of very soft silt, which makes getting out for a swim a bit awkward, without a paddle board.
W arriving.
The trees to W’s right are growing on the small island, where there was a Bald Eagle nest. Prof A challenged us to swim to the island and, I think, was a bit surprised when B and I accepted the challenge. It wasn’t all that far, maybe a 500m round trip, at a guess. The island is private, so we didn’t quite go the whole way. We didn’t see any eagles, but we had a good view of the nest.
Once back, I had a bit of a wander. Close by there was a picnic table and a fire-pit – I think this was one of the campgrounds which seem to be scattered around the area – they can be rented at relatively low cost I believe.
There were dragonflies and damselflies of various sizes and colours about. I took numerous blurred photos of a mating pair of damselflies, the male was a lovely combination of royal blue and mauve. I failed too with an orange dragonfly and an electric blue damselfly similar to those I see close to home.
Calico Pennant Dragonfly.
I chased this dragonfly along the edge of the lake, but at least I got some relatively sharp shots. I’m reasonably confident with my identification, although online descriptions say that the markings on the body are ‘orange triangles’, whereas to me they look like red hearts.
Calico Pennant Dragonfly.
Which reminds me of a blogger I once knew who found heart-shapes everywhere.
I was fascinated too by the plants and fungi under the trees. Although they were all unfamiliar, I was trying to figure out their place in the ecosystem by analogy with the things I see around home. For example…
Berry.
This plant with its single layer of large leaves and what must have been a single central flower put me in mind of our own Herb Paris.
Time was marching on, and I turned to go back along the fringe of the lake to the boats when I was startled by this monster…
A Fishing Spider.
In retrospect, it perhaps wasn’t quite as big as it seemed, but it was still, by some distance, the biggest spider I’ve seen in the wild. Feisty too: it kept waving two of its legs at me in a very aggressive fashion, or, at least, it seemed that way.
A nursery net spider. Notice all of the ghostly baby spiders in the nest.
I think it’s a Striped Fishing Spider, Dolomedes Scriptus. There’s a very similar species, the Dark Fishing Spider, Dolomedes Tenebrosus, but although this spider looks dark, I think that may be more to do with the fact that it was in the shade.
A beady eye.
Fishing Spiders don’t use a nest for hunting, but the female carries her eggs around in a silken sac before building a nest for her brood when they hatch. That probably explains the aggression. This nest was pretty big. They are also one of the species of spider which practice sexual cannibalism, with the female devouring the male after mating.
I gather that, as the name suggests, Fishing Spiders can hunt in or under the water, eating tadpoles, small fish and insects which live in the water or on the surface. They also hunt in the woods surrounding the lake however.
Talking of hunting…
A damselfly becomes a meal.
…this damselfly has fallen prey to this fly, which is not too dissimilar from the one in my previous post. During the damselfly’s death throes the pair of them landed on my hat.
The reason we needed a short outing, was that TBH and I had a long drive in prospect. Our daughter A was also in the States, working as a Camp Counsellor at a Summer Camp in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts. A was keen to see her uncle, aunt and cousins whilst she was stateside. She could get a 24 hour pass and somehow TBH had convinced herself that West Stockbridge was about an hour-and-half’s drive from where we were staying. When we looked it up again, our app was giving three-and-a-half hours. Each way. And that was before the many wrong turns we took. It was a long day.
West Stockbridge Shaker Mill.
This was the only photo I took in West Stockbridge. The following day, when we had to repeat the long journey to take A back, TBH and I had a wander around the wonderful Turnpark sculpture park, which was closed, but not locked-up. It was fantastic and I really should have taken lots of photos. Next time!
Whilst we were shouting at the satnav, Prof A took the boys bouldering. Or perhaps that was the next day, maybe they were shopping for a new toy. Or playing with that toy?
After a longs day’s driving, and with more mammoth drives in prospect, we were after a chilled day of catching up and getting in some swimming. It was cooler than it had been in New York, but still plenty warm enough.
A snake skin!
We took a canoe, a kayak and a small flotilla of paddle boards across the pond from the north side and into the stream which heads off to the south-east – to be honest I can’t remember whether it was flowing into or out of the pond.
Stony Creek Pond.Entering the stream.A former Beaver dam.
Prof A thought that the dam had probably been destroyed by canoeists who wanted to get their boats through.
‘The rock’.
Our nephews were keen to show their cousins this local venue for a bit of jumping in.
You first B.Now you W.Little S demonstrating good form with his pike.Last, but not least, M’s turn.Fowler’s Toad?
Although the area around us was heavily vegetated, I had the impression that it was probably pretty wet.
Setting off back for lunch.
The canoe here was mine and TBH’s favoured mode of transport. I loved paddling it. Very restful. During our stay I tried to perfect my J-stroke, but without much success.
Water lilies on the pond. You can see the boathouse on the left. The house is hidden in the trees. The house you can see is one of the neighbours.
When we got back, I spent some time traipsing around with my phone taking lots and lots of mostly unsuccessful photos of toadstools, pine cones, damselflies, dragonflies etc.
I found what I think was another Fowler’s Toad near to the house.
Unidentified insect – I think there might be a lot of those amongst my photos.
As you might imagine, with lots of trees and water, this is a great environment for the kind of nasty critters which like to bite. I gather that they can make early summer pretty unbearable. We wore lots of repellent, and still got bitten, but it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it might be.
Japanese beetles.
These beetles were plentiful on the plants growing on the fringes of the lawn around the house. By coincidence, I’ve been reading about them since I came back from the US:
“Japanese beetle, a rather attractive copper and emerald-green scarab beetle…spend most of the year as grubs underground eating grass roots. The adults live for just a few weeks but nibble the leaves and petals of many ornamental plants, and also have a particular taste for vine leaves.”
‘The Garden Jungle’ Dave Goulson
The latter appetite has led to authorities in California organising a mass eradication programme where homeowners can see their gardens regularly and forcibly sprayed with a cocktail of pesticides. Apparently, one of the pesticides used has a half-life, in the soil, of up to 924 days, so that with annual applications the pesticide will accumulate in gardens. Nature has no chance.
Japanese beetles.Japanese beetle.
Later, we took a short drive to have a swim at Ampersand Beach….
Ampersand beach pano.
This was a spot we visited several times. It was great for a swim, although the lake bed shelved very shallowly so that you had to wade a long, long way out to get to the point where the water was deep enough. Ampersand Beach is on Middle Saranac Lake. More about the Saranac lakes in a later post.
You may have noticed that the map above shows an Ampersand Brook (of which more later), there’s also an Ampersand Mountain locally (of which more later), and an Ampersand Lake, which allegedly looks like the ampersand symbol, but which has no public access, so we didn’t visit that.
American Toad
Even later still, this large toad was sat on the stone step by the back door of the house. It has a pale dorsal line, which I think makes it an American toad, although, if it was, I think it was a relatively large specimen.
After a long journey by tube to collect a car from the airport, and then, frustratingly, driving back through New York to queue for a long time to get across George Washington bridge and, briefly, into New Jersey, we had a lengthy drive to get to Stony Creek Pond in the Adirondacks.
One of the Stony Creek Ponds.
We drove past signs pointing the way to the Adirondack Visitor Centre hours before we arrived at our destination. I started to get really excited when we drove through the small town of Long Lake where there was a proper old wooden store with a large wooden bear standing outside. The road signs warning of Elk crossing also had my imagination running wild, not that we were to see any Elk. New York State, it turns out, is vast and the Adirondack State Park covers one third of that area. Stony Creek Ponds (there are several linked bodies of water and they looked like lakes to me) are between the towns of Tupper Lake and Saranac Lake. If you’re getting the impression that the region has a lot of lakes, then you are absolutely correct. Lakes, woods and mountains, stretching as far as the eye can see.
We were there for a few days, and barely scratched the surface of even the immediate vicinity, but even on that brief acquaintance I know that I’ve found my new favourite place.
The Boathouse.
We were staying with TBH’s brother and his family, in a house which belongs to my sister-in-law’s family. It’s thanks to their enormous generosity that we could manage this trip at all.
The Boathouse from the water. Also the DBs and their cousins messing about.
The wooden house was built in the 1930s and is simple but beautiful inside, the only fly in the ointment being the well water, which is full of iron and has a very metallic taste. Since there were always cool beers to sup instead I never found this too much of a hardship!
The boys on the water, from the Boathouse.
We had great company, a lovely view, the ‘pond’ to swim in, canoes and paddle boards down in the boathouse. We filled our days messing about in boats, swimming, and climbing hills. What more could you want? More to follow.
Many people, I know, look for novelty in their holiday destinations, fresh experiences, new kicks. I’m not immune to the pleasures of variety, but I do think it’s essential to have some regular fixtures through the year to look forward to. One of the principal milestones in our year is our annual camping trip, with a host of old friends, to Towyn Farm near Tudweiliog on the north coast of the Llyn peninsula .
This year we went for a few days. The weather over the weekend, particularly on the Saturday, was pretty poor. We still got down to the beach eventually, on both days, although these photos are from the Sunday, when it did brighten up for a while at least.
Beach Kubb.
I often find myself, when writing-up our Towyn trip, bemoaning the fact that I haven’t taken any photos of the principal joys of the holiday, so this year I made more of an effort. I still somehow managed to miss the beach cricket and the kite-flying, and shamefully my photos only feature some of the friends who were with us, probably because some only joined us for the weekend, when the weather was poor. I think at its peak our group stretched to thirteen. I could be wrong, I ran out of fingers to count on. I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone, that would be awful.
Edit: Beach Cricket! I did take a photo after all. We often played with a severe shortage of beach!
The Kubb game seen above was Old Gits versus Young ‘Uns. The OGs won eventually (skill will out), but the most memorable aspect of the game was Andy’s adoption of a series of bizarre mascots – shells, stones, and clumps of seaweed were all enlisted to offer us moral support. The DBs seem to be doing their Stan Laurel impressions, I’m not sure why. The third player in the youth team is A. Not our daughter A, but B’s girlfriend A, who inconveniently shares a name with his sister. Our A was off in Massachusetts working at a holiday camp, dodging bears and thunderstorms and making lots of friends. Although actually, at that time I think she was isolating with Covid.
A and B having a quiet moment.Beach Boules.The DBs body-boarding.
We usually do a fair bit of snorkelling from the beach at Towyn. This year I only went out once, at the end of the trip, and by then the choppy seas were full of seaweed and sand and it was impossible to see much of anything. I should have tried sooner, but was trying to keep a dressing dry. Usually, it’s the DBs who manage to injure themselves and require a trip to A&E, but this summer it was me: I dropped our detachable towbar on my finger, which made a bit of a mess. It’s recovering slowly, but even six weeks later is still swollen and sore. With one index finger out of action, my typing capacity is down by fifty percent!
As ever, sitting around and nattering was a big part of the trip. You can see how warm is was from TBFs swaddling of duvet and blankets.
My Dad likes to offload surplus camping gear on to me, and, during one of my recent trips to Lincoln, had given me this very handy box BBQ, which, despite folding down very small, doubled up as an effective fire-pit. Thanks Dad!
Little S, t’other A and B. The Three Stooges?
You might think that Little S has his hood up to keep his ears warm, but more than likely he was hiding his haircut. Just before we went away, he’d been to a Turkish barbers and his description of the haircut he wanted must have been lost in translation, resulting in a classic pudding bowl trim. He looked like he’d been auditioning for a part in a new series of Brother Cadfael, or for Jim Carrey’s stunt-double in Dumb and Dumber, or maybe for the part of Moe Howard in a remake of the Three Stooges.
B, the Eternal Weather Optimist, The Adopted Yorkshirewoman, the Shandy Sherpa, and Grandfather Sheffield.
We did get out on a couple of short walks (posts to follow, obviously) but the scenery around the camp-site is not too shabby.
The sunsets weren’t as spectacular as they occasionally have been in the past, but it’s still always nice to have a wander to the clifftops, or down to the beach to watch the sun dip into the Irish Sea.
The Langdale Pikes across the pool in the River Brathay where I swam.
My last day of term. The weather had turned hot again. I had an early finish, and had been contemplating getting out for a swim again. Then I got a call from the boys’ school to say that Little S was not feeling well, so picked him up and changed my plan. However, when B got home, he asked if I could take him and some others to Windermere, where a group of friends was gathering for a swim. I decided that if I was going to drive up to the Lakes, I might as well make the most of it.
Purple Loosestrife.
First of all, I returned to a large deep pool in the Brathay a short walk upstream from Skelwith bridge. I swam quite a way upstream to the point where my gear, on the bank, was going out of sight, and then back again.
Sneezewort.
There were lots of dragonflies, damselflies, butterflies and, to my delight, demoiselles about. I persisted in trying to take photos with my phone, although I could see that the results were blatantly useless.
Sneezewort.
The river bank flowers were more cooperative in keeping still to be photographed.
Yarrow.
Sneezewort and Yarrow are closely related, you can see the family resemblance can’t you?
Last time I swam in the Brathay, I then walked over into Little Langdale and swam in the Brathay again, just downstream from where it flows out of Little Langdale Tarn. Then, I’d bypassed Elter Water because the water seemed shallow and looked weed choked. I might have done the same again this time, but I overheard a man in a wetsuit saying that if you could get beyond the weeds it was well worth it.
You can see the final line of weeds in the photo below…
Lingmoor and the Langdale Pikes across Elter Water.
Out to those weeds, the water was only about knee deep, but with probably several feet of soft, sinky silt below that. I managed to get out by lying in the water and using my hands in the weeds below to drag myself along. Stirring up the silt released some noxious smells. It wasn’t a great deal of fun. Then suddenly the temperature of the water dropped considerably and the water was much, much deeper. I swam most of the way to those trees you can see on the far side, enjoying the view and the lack of weeds. I shared the lake with a lone paddle boarder. Sadly, I had to repeat the process of dragging myself through the shallow, weed-filled, silty shallows before I could get out again.
Soldier Beetles.
It had been warm, but overcast, but as I was drying myself on the riverbank, the sun came out again. Perfect timing.
Common Michaelmas-daisy. I think, but flowering very early in July.
I had half-planned to fit in a third swim in Loughrigg Tarn, but I didn’t really have time, and anyway, my second swim had been quite long and I had had enough. Another time.
Time now to look forward to other swims a little further from home.
I enticed B out for a walk using the lure of Tongue Pot; he’s been campaigning for a return ever since his first visit, which was five summers ago. How time flies! My side of the deal was that he had to climb a hill with me first. We parked on the big section of grass verge just west of Brotherikeld Farm (you can make out the parked cars in the photo above) and then set off toward the Hardknott Pass, soon leaving the road for the path which cuts across to the remains of the Roman Fort.
Arriving at Hardknott Roman Fort.
B has visited the fort once before, when we climbed Harter Fell with old friend X-Ray and came down via Horsehow Crags and Demming Crag (Birketts which needed ticking off, of course), which, astonishingly, was twelve summers ago. How time flies!
Beyond the wall: Horsehow Crags and Demming Crag.Inside the fort. Border End beyond.The Roman Fort.The Roman Fort.
We left the fort on a path heading towards the pass – I guess the old Roman road.
The pass, the fort and Eskdale.
By the time we hit the road, it was very hot. Fortunately, from the top of the pass it was only a very short climb to the Birkett of Border End, which turned out to be one of those Birketts which is well worth a visit, with superb views and nobody else about.
On Border End, looking to the Scafells.On Border End: Esk Pike, Bowfell, Crinkle Crags and Hard Knott.Border End panorama.Border End summit.
As we dropped away from the top of Border End I noticed this moth on the ground.
Garden Tiger Moth?
I think it’s a Garden Tiger, although it’s quite a way from any gardens. The wings usually seem to look more cream than yellow and the spots can vary in shape, but the general pattern looks right.
Garden Tiger Moth?
Since the moth was dead, I could and should have looked at the underwings which should have been a spectacular red, but unfortunately that didn’t occur to me at the time.
A view down on to Eskdale Needle.
I’d read that Border End has a good view of Eskdale Needle, and it does, although you may have to open a flickr copy of the photo above and zoom it to see it. One day I’ll have to come this way and drop down to have a proper look.
Yew Bank Crag panorama.
The tarn on Hard Knott was choked with reeds and looked extremely shallow, I soon dismissed any idea I’d had of an early dip there.
We diverted off the path to take in the rocky knoll of Yew Bank, another Birkett (and a Tump and a Synge apparently). Dropping slightly below the summit gave absolutely superb views of the hills and crags around Upper Eskdale and of the Esk and Lingcove Beck.
Slightside, Scafell, Mickledore, Scafell Pike, Broad Crag, Ill Crag, Great End. The river Esk and Lingcove Beck below.Descending from Hard Knott.Panorama.Another view of England’s highest – hard to resist!Lingcove Beck and Bowfell.Lingcove Beck and Crinkle Crags.
When we reached Lingcove Beck we immediately came upon an inviting looking pool.
An inviting pool.
Me made our way down the beck, moving from pool to pool, B looking for places to jump in, whilst I settled for a swim. I think we found around five good spots. I thought Andy and I had made a pretty thorough exploration of the swimming possibilities of both the Esk and Lingcove Beck, but I don’t remember these delightful pools.
Taking another plunge.
Tongue Pot was busy, busier than it looks here. I jumped in from the wimps side, by the tree on the right, but B had only one thing in mind: the mega-leap having not done it five years ago.
Tongue Pot. Busy.The ‘mega-leap’. This is a video. If it won’t play, click on it to visit the flickr page and view B’s feat of daring.
No qualms this time.
Once he’d done it a few times, all that remained was the pleasant walk down the valley back to the car.
Eskdale Needle from below.Heron Stones.The Esk and Bowfell.
Beating The Bounds 