| Well when you wake up early in the B & B, ready
for the second day of walking and wondering whether you can face a fry up breakfast
after the previous night's excess, you get to thinking. Like CAN I MAKE IT?! HELP?
PANIC?! The mathematics appears overwhelming; 14 miles completed another 176 to go
and a couple of Mount Everest's to climb and yes it was raining! The first day's
walking was pretty easy; I had already met lots of great people doing the walk and had a
fantastic first evening at the Fox and Hounds at Ennerdale Bridge getting to know them
all. (well O.K. I had a few beers as well - all beautiful pints of traditional English
beer - yummy and scrummy.) Yet here I was with a little uneasy feeling - how was it all
going to work out? Well I know what this day is - its a Packhorse day and I'm going to
take it super easy. The B & B lady, being on the first stage
of the walk, ends up sending stuff home for those who believe in taking everything. What
had she sent back - oh only hair dryers, ghetto blasters that sort of useful thing long
distance walkers love to take on their first outing. Another coast to coaster told me the
campsite at Ennerdale had a super collection of pots and pans thrown away by back weary
coast to coasters. The day was good - the rain soon stopped, the walk along Ennerdale
water was relaxing and scenic, the trudge by the River Liza to Black Sail hut was dull but
the pine forests after the rain smelt lovely. And here I was in a natural amphitheater
looking at the fells closing in on the Black Sail - awesome - Pillar, Great Gable and Kirk
Fell etc.; someday I will climb them all! Well here a little story unfolds - a warning to
all coast to coasters! Unknown to me one of the coast to coasters twisted his ankle
climbing Moses Trod. I met up with them at Seatoller, in the bar rewarding themselves
after the days walk and complaining over the fate of their friend. They were the guys, at
the B & B at St. Bees who had suggested the Packhorse and made it all sound acceptable to a purist walker like myself. They always signed the guest books at the
B & B as '3 Gentleman from Shugborough'. I recalled the morning's doubts and tried to
shrug them off. Well I had done well again - here I was in Borrowdale,
beautiful, beautiful Borrowdale and the most lovely part - Stonethwaite.
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