In Keswick: Buttermere & the Catbells

July 27, 2022

When we go down for breakfast this morning Deb starts to ask if our parcel arrived yesterday then stops when she looks at my face and then smiles. It’s not my Einstein look (I’m overdue for a clip) but my new specs that brings the smile out. I was surprised she asked, because the package was inside the house on the commode in the entry hall when we returned from dinner. I assumed she’d received the package and placed it there for us to find, but no; and she didn’t sound at all surprised to hear that the deliverer apparently opened the front door and placed it safely inside. Unthinkable back home.

Deb is terrific, and very relatable. She and her husband are very energetic and active. She bikes herself, and hikes or runs, and rides her horse. I think I heard her mention a triathlon to another diner at breakfast yesterday. She’s eager to hear how our ride went yesterday and of our plans for today, and we earn appreciative remarks when we tell her Rachael’s planning on a long walk to climb the Catbells and circle the lake, and I’m biking a two pass loop starting with biking down to Buttermere by way of fiendishly steep Honister Pass.

She says she’ll pull my bike out of the shed - the darker one, she asks? There’s a small shed in the back that shelters their own bikes as well, and she does the shuffling. It occurred to me to be anxious about her moving the bikes in and out, hoping the derailleur or brakes won’t be damaged. There’s no cause to worry though - she’s obviously competent and trustworthy, and knows bikes. If I understood her correctly her husband ran a bike shop in Northumberland before they took a leap and bought into the hospitality business here six years ago.

I’ve a full and challenging day ahead so I’m out the door at 9:30. I pause in the alley and look around while the Garmin comes to life and am startled by the look of the wiring on the pole up the alley, with gulls swirling behind. It’s the glasses, sharpening up the blur.

Look at that detail! I’ve been missing out on a lot these last two months.

The ride begins with a spin south down the east side of Derwent Water, the lake just south of town. I’m riding on Borrowdale Road for the first six miles - a narrow, shoulderless two laner that’s busier than I care for but safe enough. Everyone’s careful and gives plenty of room and there’s regular biking traffic, but I don’t think it’s a road Rachael would care for. The main frustration is that I’d like to get a good look at the lake and the Catbells rising above the opposite shore, but there are few gaps in the vegetation and it’s not safe to cross over and stand there for a shot because there’s no shoulder. Finally I come to an entrance to a beach near the south end and pull off for a look.

It’s a beautiful place, full of life on this fair morning. A pair of kayakers are just returning to the shore, and a family of five is just setting off, one son paddling quickly off on his own while dad takes his time launching his own long boat with three younger kids in it. Folks are sitting on the shore enjoying the sun and one figure is lying down next to her walker, completely covered in a wrap and looking like a pile of rags. It’s a calm morning and the water is reflective save for ripples from the boaters and the ducks.

The view north along Derwent Water. Keswick’s just past the end of the lake.

The view across the water to the Catbells, where Rachael will be hiking later.

The Catbells, a very popular hiking destination, for the views and proximity to town. I wonder if Rachael’s really going all the way up? It looks like a significant challenge.

Off the south end of the lake I follow the River Derwent for a couple of miles and then pull off briefly at tiny Rosthwaite for a brief look. I’ve got the time, and I’m in no hurry to reach Honister Pass.

Finally I round a bend and get a look at a gap rising steeply up into the hills. It looks painful, as expected, but I can’t really see which way I’ll be going yet. The road bends west, I cross the meadows south of the lake, and soon come to a signed junction that points the way. It’s marked at 25%, and there’s a turnaround space just past the junction if you realize you’re about to make a serious mistake.

Honister Pass begins in there somewhere, but I can’t tell yet which direction it breaks through. It’s not straight up though - it takes a bend partway up through a gap I can’t see yet.

The work starts here. Also I see there’s a second pass branching off here. I’ll have to look at the map to see where it leads. There’s no shortage of tempting roads to be explored here.

I never harbored any illusions of staying in the saddle all the way up Honicker. It’s a short climb, less than a mile and a half, so I’ll just walk the steepest parts when they come - which they do, soon. A decade ago I’d have pushed myself to tackle it, but those days are well behind me now. When it hits 20% I decide it’s time to dismount, give the heart a break, and live to ride another day.

It doesn’t last long - maybe a few hundred yards - before there’s an inflection point and it eases to a more manageable 12-15% so I hop back on again and slowly grind toward the top, until there’s one last cliff-like lift right at the end.

Then I’m up though, where I stop to sit on a rock look around by the Slate plant at the summit, and then begin the awesome descent to Buttermere Lake. It’s beautiful, dramatic, also marked at 25%, and a bit frightening. I’m thinking maybe I should be walking down the worst part too when finally it backs off and I just glide into this gorgeous U-shaped glaciated valley strewn with impressive slate boulders. Totally worth the pain of getting to the top.

Looking up from the summit. The views from up there must be really impressive.

Hey, what a view! These new glasses really do help.

And then - oh, wait! Drat!! My ePen is nearly dry, and I’ve just got enough eInk left to fill in a few caption blocks, if I’m judicious (and quit using long words like judicious, you idiot!). And I need to save a bit of white space at the bottom for Rachael’s 14 miler. There’s an eInk refill on order, but it’s not due to arrive until tomorrow so this is it. Bye.

The view of Scale Beck from across Crummock Water. Loweswater Fell on its right, Blea Crag on the left.

Brag time. I passed these four young guys on the final 800’ climb up Whinlatter Pass. 10-18% the whole way. They walked their bikes most of it but I refused to since I had an audience.

Black Sheep & jam shortbread. A match made in heaven.

Phew! There’s still a bit left. Briefly then: Rocky’s 12 mile jaunt turned into 14.5 due to a mapping issue. The hike was stunning, tho trails were crowded and at times treacherous from sharing steep, exposed spots with unruly kids and dogs. Scary! She saw a deer.

And, she offered to help us out of our eInk crisis by jamming all her pics into a slideshow with no captions. Watch! TTFN!

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Ride stats today: 40 miles, 4,000’; for the tour: 1,389 miles, 70,500’

Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 1,389 miles (2,235 km)

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Jen Rahn"fiendishly steep Honister Pass" ... I love this description. 'Fiendishly' might be my new favorite adverb.

And ... love the slideshow, Rachael!!
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2 years ago

Jacquie GaudetBoth the hike and the bike ride look fantastic. I want to do both!
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2 years ago

Rachael AndersonTo Jen RahnThanks. The hiking here is so amazing!
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2 years ago

Rachael AndersonTo Jacquie GaudetIt is an incredible place for hiking and biking!
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2 years ago