Today SUCKED.
The plan: From Ennerdale Bridge to Rosthwaite: 25km with 650 meter elevation climb officially entering the Lake District National Park.
The reality: The trail goes by small villages so each night I’m sleeping in a pub or B&B that provides breakfast and a packed lunch to eat on the trail.
High off yesterdays successful walk, I set off with a light step. I chose to do the northern route around the lake and it was just gorgeous. Not many people around but the weather was sunny with a slight chilly wind. Coming from southern China I can’t believe I can wear a jacket in the summer without dying of heat.
The lake was huge, several miles long, and I decided I should take a break before I continue on. I saw a picnic table with the last views of the lake and I sat an ate my apple. Across on the southern side I could see two people in white shirts (I guessed it was the sisters I met the night before) hiking and they were going up steep rises and through rocky paths, not directly along the water like the path I was on. I felt like I had chosen wisely.
As I stood up to get back to the trail, who should I run into but Hanna, the woman I met yesterday.
“Are you following me?” I said.
“Yes, actually I am,” she replied. Har har.
We walked together for a bit and then ran into the two sisters when the lake ended and the two paths came back together. It was indeed them I had seen across the way. We all set off, at our different paces, and soon the trail started to head up and the two sisters zoomed ahead, while Hanna, with a unique zig-zag style walking pattern moved ahead of me. I panted my way straight up.
I ran into all of them again sitting on a large tree trunk taking a break. Me and the sisters were just eating a snack, but Hanna was taking a bigger break and had taken off her shoes. We talked about our socks and shoe choices, and how happy or unhappy we were with them, an important topic for hikers. Soon the sisters took off and after a moment I did too.
Then the trail became a bit of a slog. It was just a sandy, rocky path and it just steadily went up. It wasn’t steep, but it also wasn’t gradual and I continued to huff and puff my way up.
I finally arrived at Black Sails youth hostel which is famous for being one of the most remote hostels in England. It’s a small building nestled in a valley with mountains on all sides and it looks extremely romantic. They only staff it late afternoon, but they keep it open all the time for hikers and stock the kitchen with drinks and snacks you can buy.
It’s generally a good stopping point for lunch, and there were several hikers hanging out including a woman leading a youth group of hiking teens. I sat on the one bench with two ladies from New Zealand. They were cousins and hiking with a long time family friend and her husband, so a group of 4 all together. Turns out it was one of the cousins 60th birthday trip, and I told her it was my 50th trip, and we laughed and wished us both a happy birthday.
As I was eating her friend sat next to me and it turned out that she had had bronchitis for several weeks and so was struggling on the trail. I said she was insane and she should just be resting! But she insisted she was just a little slow but fine. Poor woman.
Everyone was kinda talking and someone mentioned the next bit was really steep. Steep? I don’t really remember anything special in the guidebook that mentioned a difficult part. The woman guiding the youth group had hiked this many times and played it off.
“It’s not so bad. It’s so steep it’s like stone steps, so it’s easy.” Another guy, super fit who had also hiked this trail before said, “It’s really steep, but it’s over quickly.”
Gulp, I didn’t like the sound of this…
The kiwi cousins went off first while their friend continued to rest. The youth group went off hiking the other direction and I took off. The path was very narrow and winding over rocks, and I thought this was the “steep” part people were talking about when I turned the corner and saw the kiwi cousins in front of me, halfway up a mountain. I mean, I knew we were in a valley surrounded by mountains, but I assumed there was a path through a pass. I was wrong.
To get out of the valley I would have to summit and climb over the mountain..on a trail of very steep, rocky steps. I was not prepared for this. At one point the fit guys and his partner climbed past me and they gave me some encouragement as they zoomed past. I could see them, and the kiwi cousins, higher on the trail and soon, disappear behind a ledge way above me.
It was so steep, like Frodo and Sam hiking up the stairs of Cirith Ungol in Lord of the Rings. I got to a point where all I could do was take 10 steps before taking a breather. I wondered how the poor woman with bronchitis was gonna handle it.
It took me a little more than an hour and I got up mostly on anger. Anger at myself (Why did I pay thousands of dollars to torture myself?!) anger at the people I met at the youth hostel (‘Just steep steps’ my ass, and sure, it’s quick for that super fit guy but long and torturous for the rest of us!) and anger at anyone I could blame (F-ing Wainwright and his f-ing Coast to Coast trail). Of course what I thought was the top for the past hour was actually just a ridge, but the horrible stone steps stopped and it was back to a dirt path.
When I finally got to the top after about 90 minutes, the views were gorgeous of course. I could see the lake I had walked in the morning (was it just this morning?) as well as another lake that was on another side of a mountain, and I was higher than all the surrounding peaks so I could see in all directions. As I was taking a little break the family of aunt/dad/kid emerged from the steep bit and we chatted for a bit before they went on.
I started going again downhill but not in a good way. The path wasn’t dirt of grass but a field of giant football sized rocks. It was hard to make out the actual path and you had to concentrate on where to put your feet. At one point I passed the aunt/dad/kid group taking a break. It was kinda nice running into friendly faces.
The path kept going down, down, down, eventually ending at a slate mine. But as the path went down further, it got tougher and tougher. You could see the slate mine down in the distance and it was just a sheer drop. Everyone had their poles out to balance and you had to take big steps down and delicately balance one foot on a medium sized rock while trying to find another rock for your other foot. My ankles were straining, my feet were getting stabbed with sharp rocks through my boots, and I was sweating despite the cold, slightly rainy weather.
I had just been angry climbing up the steep but, but now, going down this new steep bit I was feeling scared. Like, I could twist or break my ankle easily in these conditions. I could slip and fall and it was so steep I’m not sure how I would stop myself. I’ve never done hiking like this before and I realized that maybe I was out of my league. I wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone, but not into the danger zone.
But I couldn’t stop now. All I could do was go slow and step carefully.
I finally made it down, shaking from stress and fear as much as overexertion of my muscles and I went into the Slate Mine’s cafe. It was almost 5pm so they were closing up but I got some apple juice and sat with the Kiwi cousins who were also there. The one who’s birthday trip it was told me she had something for me and said “happy birthday!” while handing me a small koala clip on toy. (She’s from New Zealand but lived in Australia.) So cute! I wish I had something from China to give her but my bag only had a first aid kit and some lunch leftovers.
We talked about how tough the day had been and I asked about her friend. That trail was really aggressive for someone with bronchitis. They had gotten a text from her that she had climbed the stone steps successfully and they were now on their way down the mountain. I was impressed.
The cafe closed and we still had 5 more kilometers to go, so we set off together. We were all exhausted and our feet felt shredded up, but the trail continued in this rocky/ankle hurting manner for almost the 5km. And it started raining more. But we chatted and they were super friendly and fun so being with these two women cheered me up. We finally got to the next village and my B&B was first so we said goodbye and I left them to continue walking in the rain.
I got in around 6:30 and I was worried I had missed dinner. Luckily they had one seating at 7:30 so I would have time to take a shower first. Dinner was well arranged with every guest having their name on their table and I ran into the British sisters again. They had a table for two, and I had a table for one, and we said it was too bad we couldn’t eat together. I like being by myself, but after that hellish day it would be nice to commiserate with someone.
But a woman sitting next to me at a table of 4, turned and asked “would you like to eat with us?” It was just her and her husband. I said I didn’t want to impose but she said they had been together for days and new company would be nice. So I did!
They were also hiking the Coast to Coast and were a British couple who lived in Australia. We got along great, chatting through dinner and dessert. Finally I stood up to go back to my room and all my legs muscles were stiff and I hobbled slowly up to the 3rd floor where my room was. I had given my feet a nice massage with foot cream and a massage gun after my shower, but every step still hurt.
Well, today was a total nightmare, but tomorrow would surely be better, right? Right?!
It took me 10 hours to hike 31km. I did not expect this hike to be like this….
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