Higher Definition
I don't think I've slept in a twin bed since college. I'm also not sure how much sleep I actually got last night. Every time I would move I would feel as if I was falling off the bed. Other than that, the room was comfortable and everyone was gracious.
Today was supposed to be an easier day, but it didn't turn out that way. Yes, I got a little lost again. I took for granted that I would back myself up with GPS while I was on the trail. The OS maps application I downloaded was worthless. If it wasn't giving me wrong information it was giving me no information at all. I actually had to backtrack a couple of times and use an analog compass. The compass associated with my Garmin GPS was non-functional.
It rained lightly most of the day and heavily for some of it. That meant I got to try out all my new rain gear. Anyone that's ever put on rain gear understands it's about the same as putting on a trash bag. It gets very hot very fast and it was almost a relief to take off the rain pants and go with just walking shorts. In the mist that was very manageable.
About the time I made that wardrobe adjustment I met two British women, Dawn and Julie. They were wonderful and we helped each other along the route many times. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have met up with them.
Dawn did the navigating. She used higher definition, local area maps and pointed out crags and fells and screes and the waterfalls along the way. It made for a very comfortable and informative walk. My comfort level making my way down the trail increased substantially under her tutelage.
When I complained how there was so little signage along the way, she made a very valid point. When Wainwright designed the Coast to Coast, he wanted to keep it primitive. He didn't want designated trails. The intention was for each person to explore the beauty of the area with general guidance and to find their own way.
Of course, once the rain became heavier and the mist moved in, some of the reference points became moot. You couldn't see 50 yards, let alone to the rise on the other side of a waterfall. For the time being, the trail was fairly easy to make out. It didn't stay that way.
As we climbed higher and higher, the ground became more and more slippery. There were times, and I'm not trying to be dramatic, that the path was treacherous. Grass, stone, lichen, and sheep poop all become very slippery when they're wet. Things become even more perilous when the trail is right at the edge of a ledge.
As the day progressed, the rain collected in small streams and they became torrents. We spent a lot of time just trying to find places to cross. We would look up and down these streams to see where others had crossed before us. There were several places where we could see that footprints ended on one side and began on the other, with no discernible way to make our way across without getting into water above our boots.
It got to the point where we decided we couldn't get any wetter. The water came up to our calves but it wasn't cold. We made it across and continued on the way to our accommodations for a hot shower and some dry clothes. There are times when that is all the motivation you need to keep going.
I slipped and fell twice. Nothing tragic. It was just that my boots acted more like skis than gripping shoes. Unfortunately, the second time I went down my butt landed in the stream. Part of the reason I couldn't maintain balance at the stream's edge was because I didn't have my better trekking poles. As I gathered myself together, I saw that the grip on the pole I had tried to set had slipped. Had it remained in place, I probably would have been just a little bit drier.
Here's my helpful hint for hiking in Britain: Don't buy cheap trekking poles or rain gear. You want to know you can rely on both.
Did I mention that my phone was in my pocket? It's okay, I had a plastic bag in the pocket too. One small issue: The phone was not in the plastic bag. Since I'm able to send this I managed to avoid disaster. It wasn't deep and I think I only got half a butt cheek in the water. It was hard to tell because we were all pretty saturated by that time.
Because it was so wet and slippery I was unable to take a lot of pictures on the descent. Being soaked to the bone with the wind whipping through, we kept moving as hypothermia could have manifested itself if we delayed too long in one place. Julie, ever the optimist, kept telling me the town would be around the next bend. Ultimately, she was right.
As we got lower on the face of the hill, the ground became boggy. Each step generated a sucking sound as the boot came out of the mud and muck. The views were still incredible. Rain came and went along with the mist.
Finally, we had a glimpse of a rooftop. We were at the edge of town. Grassmere is a very small village so it was only a matter of five or ten minutes for us to each get to our accommodations for the night.
I was eager to get to my room and I'd like to say I sprang up the two flights of stairs to get there. But I just walked. The room itself was incredibly small. The view was lovely, overlooking the stream that passed behind the hotel.
Once I was squared away with a shower and clothes washed, I went down the street to a local grocery store. Of course I bought more than I needed.It was nice to have the options, and I managed to get some fresh fruit.
The hotel proprietors are both marathon mountain runners. Walking up and down the slippery slopes is tough enough for me – As I see people leaping from stone to stone, like mountain goats, I am in total awe.
I know it won't take me long to get to sleep tonight. There were some serious challenges during the day, and there's an enormous sense of accomplishment and appreciation for what I got to see. Tomorrow starts out with the climb and then it's supposed to be easier for the second half of the day. Today I turned a 10-mile walk into 12 by making some navigational errors. Tomorrow is just eight miles. Let's see if I follow the intent of Wainwright and accidentally add another 20 percent of journey.