To Ulverston

July 31, 2022

The showers were just ending this morning but it was still solidly overcast when we went down to breakfast and a last visit with Steve and Carol. When we returned to our room and looked out the window the transformation was stunning. The grey sky had been swapped out for a clear blue one while our backs were turned.

Hard to believe it’s the same morning we were looking at an hour ago.

We have a short but challenging ride today on our run down to Ulverston and we’re in a hurry to get there because Rachael’s planning on a stop at the laundromat there on the way to our hotel. She figures we need to arrive by 2:30 to be sure she has time to complete our load by the time they close at 5:30, so we get an early start. Before we leave Wasdale though I’ve talked her into adding in a few miles to detour down by the lake to see the views while the sun is out. If not now, when? Who knows if we’ll be back this way again?

And we’re here at just the right time to enjoy the lake and its views at they’re best because we have the place almost to ourselves. It’s startling when we leave fifteen minutes later and bike into a steady stream of cars and vans driving in for their Sunday at the lake. We were here just barely before the start of the post-breakfast rush.

Looking back toward the east end of the lake.

We’re here early enough that we’ve beaten the weekend clouds. There are only one or two cars about and a lone paddler on the water.

Yewbarrow is radiant in the morning sun.

Great Gable blocks the east end of the lake. Just behind it on its other side is Seathwaite, the wettest place in England. Easy to believe it, looking at that deck of clouds behind.

The view up Lingmell Gill toward Scafell Pike is brighter this morning.

Ok. You’ve had your time. Can we go now?

Today’s the day that leaves us feeling nostalgic for the fens. There’s not the drama and wild beauty we’re experiencing here of course, but it would be nice to experience a few miles of lazily cruising alongside a drainage canal with nothing more to gripe about than an occasional stretch of gravel or malformed road.

Instead, we’re faced with what’s likely our hardest ride so far in England - one damn climb after another all day long, beginning with the worst of the lot, the lift out of the next dale to the south, Eskdale. First we have a short climb getting out of Wasdale - not a terrible one, just your normal short but stiff climb that peaks out at around 13%. Manageable.

Looking back from the first climb of the day, crossing the ridge between Wasdale and Eskdale. I think in the center are the peaks we see rising above Wasdale Head: Yewbarrow, Great Gable, Scafell.

Crossing over into Eskdale we get a brief glimpse of the Irish Sea from the divide.

Climbing out the south side of Eskdale is a different matter though. After dropping to and crossing the River Esk we enjoy a short bit of easy riding until we round a bend, look ahead, and groan.

We knew this climb was coming of course - it figures to be easily the worst climb of the day as it rises almost 800 feet in two miles. It’s worse than that though of course because the grade is uneven, with manageable stretches of 12-14% stiffening up to about 20. It’s at the worst of these spots that I decide its time to stop and admire the view, and am lucky enough to time a shot just as Rachael passes me just feet in front of my nose.

The view into Eskdale is worth a bit of pain.

Making progress! We’re rounding the head of the valley and here’s the view back where we’ve come so far, with our road curving around to the left.

Between stops with the camera and my older legs I’ve gotten behind Rachael as she continues soldiering on. Looking ahead I watch with amusement as she slowly approaches a pair of sheep calmly sitting in the road watching the world go by. They’re still sitting there when I come up to them; and they’re still there to when a van comes the other way and has to slow down and swerve to the side to evade them.

Finally up, we enjoy a wonderful ride for the next two miles as we gradually descend through a gorgeous open landscape. Then, the drop begins, announced by a sign warning of the 25 percent grade ahead. We haddnt realized until now that we ascended the easy side of the pass. There are stretches where we’re slowly and cautiously rounding tight, short switchbacks that drop so steeply that we wonder if we should be walking them instead.

Amazing. From a distance these look like rice paddies up here on top of the mountains.

Finally though we bottom out, the worst climb of the day behind us. Unfortunately, most of the day’s work and pain is still ahead. It’s a nearly constant up and down for the next 20 miles, with even the smallest spikes in the profile being stiff enough to cause some grief and an occasional dismount. Altogether for the day I count at least a dozen climbs long enough to take note of that topped out at 12-16%.

It’s all gorgeous though. Really a beautiful ride, and worth the pain.

South of Eskdale and moving away from the highest mountains of the Lake District the landscape has a different look, lumpier and wrinkled. Volcanic?

Nope; but what a glorious descent down the other side!

This was really a beautiful stretch, and very quiet except for the occasional sheep in the road. No motorized traffic at all, broken by gates and cattle guards.

Slow going though. The cattle guards are all rough and widely spaced enough that we dismount and walk them, and the gates slow us down too. As do the hills.

The country as we approach Ulverston is an exquisite green.

Video sound track: Bright Moments, by Grover Washington, Jr.

We make it to Ulverston before 2:30 and head straight to the laundromat, stopping off first at a store to pick up a cold drink for Rachael to cool herself down with as she tends the wash. I offer to stay around and keep her company but she waves me off to to check us into our hotel for the next two nights, the Premier Inn; so who am I to say no?

Later she’s off to the store and gives me a call to let me know that the restaurant we planned to go to is no longer in business and commissions me to find another. I call her back five minutes later with an Italian I’ve just booked us for it’s last available slot at, a half hour from now. I tell her to hurry back while I take a shower, but she’s frustrated by Google Maps - it somehow thinks the way to get to Premier Inn is to walk down the far side of a small river and then cross over somehow - by swimming apparently, but that doesn’t work well with her arms full of groceries. Instead she just backtracks and meets me at the restaurant.

We’re in Ulverston for two nights. More about it later.

You see references to these two everywhere in town,including the Laurel and Hardy Museum we should try to get to. Stan Laurel is Ulverston’s favoritist favorite son.

The appropriate time to try a Wainwright, named for the famous explorer and mapper of the Lake District’s fells. I like that the label features a part of his map of Helvellyn and Striding Edge, one of the most dramatic hikes/climbs we’ve ever taken

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Ride stats today: 36 miles, 4,000’; for the tour: 1,487 miles, 79,100’

Today's ride: 35 miles (56 km)
Total: 1,486 miles (2,391 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	3

Patrick O'HaraNice work, you two. That profile looks a little bumpy,
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2 years ago

Rich FrasierA stalwart performance on the bicycle. Congratulations to you both!
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Rich FrasierDefinitely merited a Wainwright. Or two!
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2 years ago