Day five

Patterdale to Shap
15 miles
Dep 0845
Arrive 1615

As my good friend john always tells me "food first, heroism second" and true to that the day started again with a belly buster as I looked out the window at some seriously miserable weather. The good stuff yesterday was being paid for today.

Fully togged up and putting on the rucksack again and setting off didn't seem as bad as previous days. Either my body was toughening up to the rigours of walking everyday or the various body parts were resigned to there fate and had given up complaining for now.

This was officially the last day in the lakes and the last big hills of the the trip and setting off from Patterdale it was immediately straight up. I didn't see any walkers to start with until a couple of day packers sped past me. I kept them within sight until they disappeared over the first rise. As I came over the rise myself I was suddenly in thick cloud and all sight of fellow walkers was lost.

Now with limited visibility the path ahead showed 4 possible paths, each going in a different direction and no indication of what lay beyond the next 20 meters. One of the good and bad things absurd the coast to coast path is that it is not a national trail and so signposting can be none existent. at tones like this it would be nice to have a ray of light hitting the correct path and maybe a sign above all the others stating 'abandon hope all ye who enter here' just to make things clear. In absence of this though I had to trust the compass bearing and head off onto the mist.

The next identifiable feature I was to pass was angle tarn in about 40 mins, which is a long time when the devil on your shoulder starts whispering you might be on the wrong path. Ounce checking with the compass gave me a bit if start when it showed me heading north instead of south, until I realised my phone was on and under the map in the case and was causing magnetic havoc. Fortunately the tarn appeared on time.

Following the tarn was another hour of walking on bearings, with only a few minor detours, until I came to the turn off pint to head up to the high pint of the day. By this point I was truly wet through and my feet has been wet for the past 2 hours so had given up on artfully dodging puddles and bogs.

The short peg upto Kidsty pike went quite quickly and wainwright describes it as a perky little summit. I have to say I say nothing perky about it, but maybe it needed to be viewed from a distance in clear weather to appreciate. Either that or I was too wet and cold to see anything as perky.

From here it was all downhill to hayswater reservoir which marked the half way point of the day. The path down was uninteresting, mainly because I could see b***** all, but then I was all of a sudden below the cloud line and could see I was in the lakes again. The reservoir was visible below and having a point to aim for made me move much quicker.

I was down in 45 mins and ready for a sit down and some food. I had avoiding stopping earlier at all as its just to grim sitting on wet grass alone in the mist.

The biggest stretch ahead was the reservoir which seemed to go on for ever but it was quite an easy path and so moved along quite quickly. It should have been more haste less speed though as I came a cropper on a rock of doom. Had I been writing a guidebook it would have been immortalised as b****** rock forever more. It was a proper two feet on the air slip and land on the back. Fortunately the rucksack took the brunt and the only war wound was to my palm which for a time was refusing to stop bleeding.

An hour and half later though I was past the reservoir and into a dramatic change in scenery. The rest of the walk would involve winding through fields and sheep and small bridges over beautifully streams. I wasn't appreciating it fully though as I was head down and wanting to get to shap. The body parts that had previously remained silent were now waking up and making themselves known.

The last section seemed to drag on forever and the last hour I has definitely taken on the weary trudge. Thoughts of camping tonight were not helping either. After an age I finally got to shap and had a quick check to see if there were any b&b vacancies. Sadly though, all fully booked. The next best thing - camping in a pub beer garden. No shower but a wash down in the pub toilet, turning their lounge into a drying room, and a pint if strongbow later it doesn't seem so bad.

I am now in the bar contemplating dinner and there is a fish and chip shop across the road. I can feel a deep fried black pudding calling my name. It's another long one tomorrow to kirkby Stephen so will need the energy.