the old man of coniston

We have three full days here in Coniston, plus our travel days. The forecasts have consistently predicted the weather for those days would be: good, terrible, good. Coniston is a good base for walking. It's a little off the beaten tourist track, a plus in the first place, and is the start of a number of hiking trails. Chief among these is the highest local peak the Old Man of Coniston, which stands 750m above the town below. We planned to tackle this 11km walk on the first fine day, to ensure we didn't miss it.

Today dawned clear, with the cairn (pile of stones) at the summit of the Old Man visible just below the clouds from our B&B. Our host reported the forecast continued to be positive, and with his encouragement we set off immediately... immediately after a cooked breakfast, that is. And buying some lunch at the local Co-Op super(ette)market.

The trail up to the Old Man was well described in a small guidebook we'd picked up of local Coniston walks. A sealed road gave way to metal which quickly became a rough path that wound its way around the hillsides. The land is firmly in the grip of autumn, and even as we climbed quickly above the tree line the rusted bracken contrasted with the lush green grass and slate outcrops to paint a dramatic landscape. Mottled and at times slate-coloured sheep appeared camouflaged on stony ground. Beneath Bic's concrete-coloured skies we ascended through old slate quarries and past picturesque tarns (man-made upland lakes).

The final climb to the summit deserved the description reserved for just this part of the route: steep. This peak has no pretensions of being made of anything except solid slate, and packed and stacked it makes for solid footholds. The climb was satisfying but never a worry. A few photo breaks later and we're at the top.

Climbing onto the summit ridge a cold wind slices through previous adequate Norsewear and coats appear immediately. As we reach the top the cloud is closing in, rapidly reducing visibility into the valley below, though it remains relatively clear at the summit itself. Away to the other side, just below our feet, we watch cloud forming straight off the ridgeline, with clear cold air blowing across from our left turning to instant whiteout as it dropped into the lake valley below.

Descent from the ridge through varied and attractive scenery, much reminiscent of our time in Snowdonia almost exactly a year ago. A slip for Duncan saved by a jarring stop with left knee bent, reverberating back to my dislocation of same a couple of years ago. Knee a bit ginger the rest of the day. Called out a fellow kiwi by his Macpac gaiters and had a nice chat to end our walk. Finally, from the carpark he picked up his bike and rolled home. Meanwhile, we discovered the steepest part of the day was the road descent from the carpark, unbelievably sheer and so tough on (now strained) knee that both of us could be seen walking down backwards much of the way. Pleased to eventually find level ground.

Good dinner at a local pub. Back to the B&B for Häagen-Dazs ice cream before we fell asleep for a couple of hours, dragging ourselves up only in order to actually get into bed. Total sleep time by morning: circa 11 hours... So now who's the Old Man of Coniston, eh?