Brewer's Loop

Brewer's Loop, the sequel to Gin, Cake & Rucksacks is finally here! 

After Karen & I toured Cumbria visiting all the gin distilleries and telling their stories, Steve & I decided it was only right to tour Cumbria once again, this time visiting the breweries; all while dragging a beer cask along the way (obviously!).

Raising funds for Mountain Rescue volunteers as we went (considering our plans, it felt prudent...), we visited everyone from full-size commercial breweries to family-run microbreweries. With our trusty travel companion, Casky, we climbed mountains, rowed lakes, braved swan invested lagoons and even tried our own homage to Danny MacAskill on the shores of Windermere, as we explored the brewing process and the history of beer in Cumbria. We had an absolute blast and quickly understood why seemingly sane individuals leave lucrative careers to become brewers. 

The result is 240 pages of bug bites and chaos, with lots of laughs and a couple of tears, so don your finest beer goggles and grab your copy today: Click Here For Beery Brilliance

Sit back, relax, with a beer in one hand and a beerly good read in the other.
(You see what I did there? Trust me, you'll love the book!) 

Mountain Rescue Donations

Dog walkers, runners and psychos...

Sunshine on Grange prom

I inherited my love for walking from my dad.  He never needed an excuse to walk and neither do I. Walking was his 'thing' and it's also mine. It never really occured to me that some people might find it odd to go out for a walk on your own when you don't have a dog, or aren't clad in lycra and cluitching a water bottle, but then last year I was asked to judge a podcast comeptition and one of the entrants focused on how they felt a little odd 'just going for a walk'.

The title of the blog comes from my friend Rachel, who used it in a Facebook post after she'd been on a morning walk. I know she was joking, but it got me thinking...

...And then I was invited to review the book 'Do Walk' by Libby DeLana - Libby goes for a meditative walk every morning at 5am; the book is a reflection on those walks, and it's made me reflect on my own morning walks.

I never used to go for a 'morning walk' until 'Lockdown 1' curtailed my work travel, and now I don't know what I'd do without it. In fact we recently went on hols to Scotland - we had an amazing time walking, cycling, swimming and kayaking but, after we got home I was feeling antsy and I didn't know why. We'd had fun, I didn't mind being home and I was quite happy to get back to work, but I just wasn't settled.

A lovely bike ride to Port Logan

Kayaking - so much easier without the water...

It wasn't until we headed for Coniston Water on Bank Holiday Monday that it all fell into place. After going for a lacklustre swim I left Steve to head off for a longer paddle in the kayak while I headed off up into the Blawith Fells, and then I realised - despite having loads of fun, I'd not had my morning walk and I really missed it. Suddenly I was alone with my thoughts again (despite the large crowds on the water, the fells were pretty quiet) and I began to feel so much better. Nothing against Steve at all - I love going for walks with him - I just needed some alone time.

Alone again...

In her book, Libby explores this, and it's a fascinating read although, being from New England, some of her winter walks are a lot more extreme than mine, plus I only ever walk for around 40 minutes whereas she heads off on some pretty hefty hikes. I love the part where she talks about really seeing things on your walk and quotes a friend as saying "you never see anyone running through an art gallery" - I'm pretty good at slowing down on my walks, so that made me smile.

She also talks a lot about the solitude of the walks and that has had me pondering too, especially since lockdown restrictions have eased. I find I am torn between the part of me that says it's selfish to want my beautiful morning walks through the woods all to myself, and the part that truly resents seeing other people on 'my' walk.

And here's another question - is 'Good Morning' compulsory? My working life requires me to talk to people all day, so I savour my solo morning walks and specifically take less popular routes. If I do meet someone else and they offer a 'good morning' I will smile and return the greeting - but there's one gentleman on my walk who, if I don't reply loudly enough, will stop in his tracks and shout 'GOOD MORNING!" at me until I reply in a manner that satisfies him.

It's mine...all mine!

I've seen some really sharp comments on social media recently with folks getting angry when others share pictures of their favourite quiet spot, thus 'ruining it'. Wordsworth thought that only the 'right sort of people' should come to visit the Lake District - but who gets to determine what the 'right sort of people' are? (I don't have a complete answer to that, but I'll kick off with people who know how to park properly, close a gate and take their litter home, for starters.) 

The 'right sort of people' on my morning walk would be those who slip past quietly, in their own little world, and definitley not the ones who shout at me but, for them, the 'right sort of people' could be the person that stops to chat a while. Who's to say which is right?

My favourite view from my morning walk

As well as meaningful insights and reflections the book also has lots of practical tips too - very handy for those new to walking or needing a bit of inspiration. I can also vouch for the fact that, as with most things, it goes splendidly with a spot of sunshine and a big mug of tea.

You can find the book at thedobook.co and it really is a rather lovely read, full of great quotes and interesting photos.

You can find me in Eggerslack Woods most mornings. I'm also full of great quotes, but best left alone at that time of day. And please don't shout 'good morning' at me either. Thank you. 😀

Don't blame The Townies

As lockdown restrictions finally begin to properly ease - hopefully for good this time - there will be some people dreading the thunder of a million feet heading towards the Lake District.  This is understandable, last year there were some dreadful scenes of people disrespecting the landscape, leaving litter, wrecking trees, parking inconsiderately and, sadly, leaving gates open that resulted in the deaths of livestock.  Hopefully things will be better this year but, if they're not, please don't collectively blame 'the townie'.

I was raised a townie.  I had no control over where I was born and raised and, as soon as I was able to, I escaped to greener pastures, but it was drilled into me at a very early age to respect the countryside.  (For anyone who knows the West Mids, Walsall Arboretum was our nearest decent sized area of greenery, trips to Sutton Park were a *massive* treat and Cannock Chase was like taking a trip abroad!)  

Closer to home we'd play in the rough strip of ground behind the house, making dens and swings and eating enough blackberries to make us sick.  Although we promised that we would never to go further than the end of the road, clandestine trips to Reedswood were the highlight of many a summer - untethered by phone calls demanding to know our whereabouts, or trackers to show where we were at all times, we explored and adventured far beyond where we were supposed to. 

We may have wandered beyond our boundaries, but we never left litter or caused any permanent damage - although there were no mobile phones, or CCTV, we all knew that our mums had eyes everywhere and would somehow know if we'd left an empty crisp packet in one of our dens.

Me, somewhere in Wales, circa 1977

I was lucky enough to holiday in Wales regularly, and that always included a daily walk somewhere.  I was taught how to dress properly and wear the right shoes and I was expected to observe 'The Countryside Code' at all times (as well as being sure to 'Keep Britain Tidy')

Because I grew up far away from the countryside, to me it is still a rare and beautiful thing and I still get excited every time I see lambs, or calfs, or birds, or the sea, or a million other things that I never saw regularly as a kid.  I am keen to protect it, plant the right flowers and bushes to encourage bees and butterflies and try to keep my 'footprint' as small as possible.

Grange Prom

Being controversial, in my experience, sometimes it's the people who grew up with all of that around them that take it for granted.  We live in a conservation zone and have neighbours who have lived in the area all their life, but they have ripped up every flowering plant and concreted over their entire garden, turning it into a natural desert.  Every leaf is swept the moment it touches the floor and jet washing of the paved backyard is a monthly event. A very few, select, green things are allowed, but they are strictly confined to colour co-ordinated tubs.  On the brightside it's inspired me to go a little bit 'wild flower crazy' to try and compensate for their concrete wasteland.

The point is that it's never as straight forward as blaming one type of person or another, that simply causes division where there doesn't need to be any.  We need to focus on doing more to educate everyone about what, I absoultely agree, should be basic common sense, such as taking your litter home, closing gates behind you and not parking like a wazzock.  

I don't have all the answers to the big questions, but I do know that there are amazing groups like the Lakes Plastic Collective who are doing fantastic work to keep the region looking beautiful - check out their Facebook page here and support them if you can - we can achieve a lot more by working together than we can by creating more division.  (You can also find them on Twitter here and Instagram here)

We don't cover the blog in adverts and rely on a steady sale of our books to fund the site.  You can find them all here - please feel free to have a browse. Thank you.

The best benches in Cumbria

Yes, I'm back blogging!  It's been a while I know but, to be brutally honest, like many folks, 2020/21 pretty much kicked the stuffing out of me and it was hard to find things to write about that were chirpy and positive when we were stuck indoors all winter, but now we are out and about and things are looking up (at least for now!)

What better way to bounce back than with a quick blog about benches?  I flipping love a good bench - who doesn't?  Actually, I'll tell you who, because benches are more controversial than you'd think.  One of the most important things we can do to help the older population is to help them keep walking - it's great exercise, plus it's a social activity, giving them a chance to meet and talk to other people, thus staving off loneliness. But, in order to encourage them out more, we need to give them more benches to sit on, where they can pause and catch their breath, and the problem with that is that in many urban areas they are actively removing benches as they are a natural gathering point for ne'er do wells and rowdy youths.

Tis true, I found out about it a few years ago when I was working just outside Preston.  As per usual I'd packed my sarnies and headed out at lunchtime to a nearby park, planning to sit and eat my lunch in the sunshine, but this lovely park didn't have one single bench - so I asked why and that's when I found out about the conundrum.  Scary isn't it?  I wish I had an answer, but maybe highlighting it so more folks are aware and talking about it is the best first thing I can do.

And now - onto my favourite benches in Cumbria... (Yeah, I know you'll disagree, but that's part of the fun.  Plus I am not including *that* bench on Friar's Crag as it's already too popular by far! 😀 )

1. The one with the view of Blencathra

A friend recently stumbled upon this bench and reminded me of this fabulous walk - it's pretty out of the way but the view is utterly spectacular.  Don't be fooled by the idyllic image though, after we left this bench we got a little bit lost in a very big bog, and I had a proper dodgy old pair of walking boots on and had to wring my socks out at the end.  Still a great bench though!

2. The one on Scout Scar

I love Scout Scar - it's utterly perfect for a family walk with free parking nearby and an easily accesible walk along the ridge.  You can just do a tiny toddle to a bench for lunch, or wander around the scar for the entire afternoon, admiring the far reaching 360 degree views.  There are loads a juniper bushes up there too, in case you fancy brewing your own gin.

3. The surprise bench

If there's one thing better than a bench, then it's a surprise bench - a beautiful bench that pops up when you least expect it.  I pretty much literally stumbled across this one on an 'off the beaten track' kind of yomp around the hills near Millom.  The town often gets a bad rap, but I have a huge soft spot for it, and who wouldn't with benches like this?

4. The one that requires a bit of effort

How's this for a bench with a view?  You can find this beauty half way up The Band, and it was absolutely flipping perishing the day we took that pic.  We'd been testing out a small stove that was supposed to brew up water in super quick time, but took so long that I half froze to death and vowed to only travel with flasks of hot tea in the future.

5. The Royal Bench

This bench was so good that we took William and Kate to see it, and they loved it too!  You can find it above the shores of Ullswater, although it is a little off the main path.  You get amazing views of Helvellyn and the boats tootling too and fro along Ullswater.  I can't promise that you'll always bump into a member of the royal family up there, but you never know.

Buy our books!

If you're planning your perfect post lockdown escape to the Lake District then what better than one of our books to guide you around?  We're always happy to sign them and promise to pack them with love and skip to the post office to send them off - now you won't get that offer from anywhere else!  CLICK HERE to check our bookshelves and place your order.  Thank you!

10 Great Gift Ideas for lovers of Cumbria

It's that time of year again!  And this year this blog is more important than ever - so many of our wonderful small business are facing massive challenges due to the continuing COVID restrictions - even if they're allowed to open, so many regions near here are in Tier 3 that few people will be able to travel.

BUT we can still support them by shopping online. Trust me, Jeff Bezos won't be worrying about where his Christmas lunch is coming from, or whether he'll still be in business next year, but plenty of small business right across the country will.

Here's my pick of some of the finest gifts and ideas from around Cumbria:

1. Grassmere Gingerbread

How about an absolutely unique taste of the Lake District delivered right to your door?  Grassmere Gingerbread is legendary and as well as tasting great it always arrives perfectly packed too!

Click here to visit Grasmere Gingerbread

2. Go Your Own Way

The guys at GYOW offer a wonderful range of quirky and interesting hand made gifts - everything is made with love and imagination and each gift will be guaranteed to bring a smile to the face of whoever is lucky enough to receive it.

Click here to visit the GYOW shop.

3. Witchmountain Cards & Gifts

Honestly, how pretty are these?  Kim at Witchmountain has a wonderful array of cards, gifts, prints and soft furnishings availbable.  She also offers gift kits and workshops so you can learn to make your own - the perfect gift for your crafty friends!

Click here to visit the Witchmountain shop

4. Shed 1 Gin

Zoe and Andy at Shed 1 gin are great friends of ours, which could make you think I'm biased, but it's not just me that loves their gin.  This year they have won another armful of awards, launched their new gin experiences AND found time to support the local community.  Their shop is brimming over with great gift ideas!

Click here to visit the Shed 1 shop

5.  Jo's Little People

At Jo's Little People you can find the perfect little person for anyone in your life - paramedic, bride and groom and a whole host of others, as well as lots of cute little animals to choose from too.  All personally handmade with oodles of love!

Click here to visit Jo's Little People

6.  Unsworths Brewery

So many of us have missed visiting the pub this year, so how about bringing the pub to you?  Unsworth's Brewery were a HUGE support to us when we were writing the Brewers Loop book (out spring 2021) - a bottle of Last Wolf was definitely a big treat for me at the end of a long day!  They have plenty of beers to choose from and they are all made in the heart of Cartmel village.

Click here to visit Unsworth's Brewery

7.  Sam Read Books

Yes, we all know that there's another big website where you can buy books, but how about supporting a local bookseller, selling local books?  Sam Read is in Grasmere village and has been selling books since 1887 - so they know a thing or two about it and would be delighted to give you some expert advice if you're unsure just what to buy.

Click here to visit Sam Read online shop

8.  The Twig Pen People

The lovely folks at The Twig Pen People are also great friends of ours, but I wanted to tell you how they've 'branched out' (you see what I did there?) and now offer lots more gifts!  Take a look at their shop where you'll find a range of gifts, cards, notebooks and, of course, their infamous twigpens!

Click here to visit The Twigpen People

9.  Top Trumps Birds of the World

You know how hard I try to learn my birds, and you know how I fail...  In my defence, swans and egrets are both white!  These are the prefect way for me to learn more about my birds and have a laugh at the same time, and who doesn't love a good game of Top Trumps?  There are loads of British birds in there too so there will be no excuses for not knowing your house sparrow from your blue tit AND quoting their wingspan to me next time we meet!

Click here to buy Top Trumps from the RSPB online shop

10.  Our books

Yes, we still have all our books for sale, and yes, we'd still be delighted to sign them as a Christmas gift.  We offer free postage on orders over £20 and I can personally guarantee that I'll do a happy dance and skip to the post office with each order.  (Video available upon request!)

Click here to visit our online bookstore

How the other half live

North Walney

“Will this do for a lunch spot?”  Amanda pointed towards a nice sandy spot in the middle of the dunes.

“Looks good to me!” Chris smiled and slipped off the tatty old backpack, depositing it onto the sand with a gentle thud.

“Eeewww – sweaty back!”

“I can’t help it, it’s a hot day – oooh that feels nice.” Chris’s t-shirt billowed out as a cool breeze caught it. 

Amanda was already busy unpacking the picnic – sandwiches, tea, cake – she lined them up in the sand between them.  “Where are the crisps?”

“Front pocket”

“Got them!”

They sat together eating lunch and taking in the view.  On a clear sunny day like this North Walney had a hint of the Caribbean about it, with light sandy beaches stretching off into the distance and sparkling blue sea surrounding the dunes. 

An aeroplane passed overhead, descending on its way into the local airport.

Chris squinted into the sky, staring intently at the plane.  “A Gulfstream G500 – nice.  Very nice.”

“You are such a plane nerd!” teased Amanda.

“That,” said Chris “is one of the most exclusive private jets in the world.  The whole of the interior is lined with leather and wood, with made to measure seats – it even has marble floors; and all for just £44 million or so, depending on the finish.”

“Forty four million pounds?”  Amanda watched as it flew by.  “ I think I just saw a face at the window – couldn’t see who it was, must be someone famous.  Imagine having all that money.  You’d never have to worry about paying the mortgage again, or fixing the car.”  She pulled at the sleeve of her t-shirt, studying a fresh hole that had appeared there that morning.

“I’m sure they have their own worries.”

“Yeah, but money wouldn’t be one of them!”  The plane disappeared out of sight behind the dunes and down into the airport.  “What would you do if we had that sort of money?”

“It’s almost impossible to say – I can’t really imagine it.  We could get a swimming pool for a start, although I’m not sure where we’d put it.”

Amanda snorted “Where would we put it?  With that sort of money we could get a whole new house!  I’m thinking two pools, one indoor and one out!”

Chris poured another mug of tea from their blue flask, battered and chipped with the scars of previous adventures. “We could get a bigger flask too! Or push the boat out and get two!”

“Sod the flasks – we could fly to India and buy our own tea plantation!  We’d make sure all the workers were well paid and looked after, of course.”

“Of course” Chris smiled.

“And we could buy a massive woodland somewhere and protect it – but still let people come and visit so they could see the birds.  Maybe we could have a café with the best cakes in the world – I know, we’ll get Mary Berry in to bake them all!”

“I’m not sure she’d agree…”

“Of course she would, she must be bored now she’s not on Bake Off any more.”

“And just how do you plan to get all of this money?  Got a rich relative you’ve not told me about?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  We could buy a lottery ticket on the way home.  I’m feeling lucky!”  Amanda snuggled up next to Chris who draped a protective arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close.

Chris kissed the top of her head and smiled. “I think we’re both pretty lucky as it is. Do you want the last swig of tea?” and handed Amanda the mug.

****************

The plane taxied to a halt.  Princess Margareta uncrossed her elegant legs and slowly stood up; she smoothed down the creases in her white linen skirt and walked over to the mirror in the private bathroom suite.  Peering at her reflection she twisted her head to see if any grey hairs were showing, then stretched the skin around her eyes to hide the few wrinkles which had begun to grow there.

“You look gorgeous.”

She turned to smile at Sarah, stood in the doorway.

“You always say that.”

 “Short red power jacket or comfy green coat?” Sarah held up the two options for Margareta to choose from.

“Let’s go with the red, I need all the help I can get today.”

Sarah hung the green coat on the back of the door and handed over the red jacket.

Taking the jacket with one hand, Margareta brushed a hair from Sarah’s face with the other, allowing it to rest for a moment on her cheek as their eyes met. 

Sarah reached up and covered Margareta’s hand with her own, pressing it closer to her cheek, before removing it from her face and gently kissing her palm.

Margareta sighed. “I am so tired of this.  Why can’t I just be me?  Why can’t we be together like normal people?”

“Because we just can’t.  It is what it is. Can you imagine the headlines?  I could never do that to you or your family.”

“Times were different when we first met, I could understand it back then, but the world has moved on, surely they would accept us now?”  She squeezed Sarah’s hand, still locked tightly in her own.

“The press would have a field day.  ‘Gay Princess Never Loved Late Husband’ –  that’s just what they’re like.  Archie was a good man, we both know that.”

Margareta sighed. “You’re right; I know you are, it just feels so unfair.  Did you see those two women on the beach as we flew over just now?  Cuddled up close, enjoying a picnic in the sunshine and not a care in the world.”  She let go of Sarah’s hand and slipped on the red jacket, scooping her hair out from under the collar and allowing it to tumble around her shoulders. “What I wouldn’t give to be just like them – we could go anywhere and do anything and no one would give a damn.”

“I know, but we still have so much.”

Margareta sighed and gently kissed Sarah’s cheek.  They stood for a moment, foreheads touching, no words needed. Then, turning, she took a deep breath, pulled back her shoulders and made her way to the plane exit.

She paused at the cabin door, looking backwards to Sarah for one last reassuring glance.  Sarah bobbed out her tongue causing Margareta to giggle, before quickly composing herself.  She then fixed her smile and stepped out of the aircraft and into the bright sunshine to greet the officials awaiting her arrival on the tarmac.

If you enjoy short stories based in Cumbria then check out my book - it has 10 shot stories, all set in the county, with photos and a location guide for each chapter.  CLICK HERE to buy yours (Currently only available via Amazon)

Alone again, naturally

One thing that is becoming more apparent to me as lockdown restrictions ease, is that I'm a bit of a freak.  I mean, I've always known I was a bit weird, but now I feel as if I am decidedly odd, and definitely at odds with most of the rest of the country.

I adored the solitude of lockdown.  I have loved being at home.  I still do - I am not remotely bored with it.

Days gradually became a whirl of Zoom meetings and delivering online courses, punctuated with lovely leisurely lunches of freshly made sarnies and a proper cup of tea.  Every morning and evening I would wander off into nearby Eggerslack woods, following barely trodden paths to enjoy time completely alone, far away from the rest of the world and the ping of my mobile phone.  I saw deer - honest I did - though the varmints always legged it before I could get my camera out.

Then I broke my leg.  Not the worst thing in the world by a long way, but it meant my solitary walks in the woods were off the agenda - way off.

Week one wasn't so bad as I was completely housebound and we're lucky enough to have enough space to escape each other - although still close enough for Steve to hear my pleas for a cup of tea (most of the time!)

Week two onward was when I really began to feel it - the fact that I couldn't escape anywhere alone.  At a time when restrictions were easing and friends were excitedly heading off on holidays, or meeting up with other friends and family, all I wanted was to do was to go for a walk alone.  Completely alone.  Like I did in the woods.

Although I could get around a bit more, I could only tackle flat tarmac and, even then, only for short distances, as I rebuilt the strength in my leg.  The thing is, just about all nice flat walks with a view are incredibly popular.  We found quieter spots, but I craved solitude at a time when everyone else in the world seemed to be craving other people.

Morecambe - perfect place for a flat walk

I tried not to get cranky, but I may, on occasion, have failed.  I read an article about a child who had been desperately sick but "not complained once" - sadly the same would never be said of me.  If there's one thing my broken leg and lack of mobility has taught me, it's that I am going to be a hell of a handful when I'm old and less mobile.  Seriously, I will be a cantankerous old moo and possibly the scourge of any retirement home I end up in.  Remember Waiting for God?  Diana will seem angelic by comparison.

Desperate to push myself to regain some independence and solitude I persuaded Steve that Hoad Hill in Ulverston would be a great idea.  True, there would be people, but if we went late in the day and took the pretty way down we could enjoy some peace.  It worked - and my leg didn't fare too badly.  (It's week 6 - I was expecting to be throwing somersaults by now.)

Lulled into a dangerous sense of "I'm fine now, honest I am" I suggested Black Combe for Bank Holiday Monday.  I love Black Combe.  I mean *really* love it.  Steve tried suggesting it was, perhaps, a little ambitious.  I fixed him with my "Diana stare".  He relented.  Game on!

I struggled in a couple of places on the way up - a few slightly steeper sections that I simply did not have the strength in my leg to pull myself up - but I am nothing if not sheer bloody minded.  We took a long lunch break half way up in the sunshine and eventually made it to the top around 3pm, where I collapsed in the shelter with a flask of hot tea and a handful of painkillers - but I'd made it - and the best part lay ahead!

Solitude at last!

Pretty much everyone who goes up Black Combe returns down the same path.  Not me.  I head off the northern side, dropping down to Butcher's Breast then following the path along the bottom back to Silecroft. Yes, it was far too far and overly ambitious and yes, I was in a huge amount of pain by the end of it.  BUT we only saw one other person between leaving the summit around 3:15pm and limping back to the car just before 8pm.  Solitude.  Utterly blissful solitude.  

Every single ounce of pain was worth spending time alone on a beautiful hillside, on an utterly perfect day.  I totally understand that, for many folks, the exact opposite is true, and it's fantastic to see friends excited about spending time together again but, for now at least, I will relish the opportunity to get back to my precious, solitudinous, walks.  

Whoop Whoop!

Fell Cottage - every time we pass I dream of living here...

Selling books was an absolute lifeline for us through lockdown.  If you want to support us by buying our books, you can find them all right here.

Touching the Gin

A blog inspired by Joe Simpson's book, but with less blood and more gin.

As pretty much all of you will be aware, I am currently off the fells and nursing a broken foot.  I don't even have a god story to go with it - I was spring cleaning and fell downstairs when I was looking for the feather duster.  The best part is, it turns out the feather duster was upstairs all along.  Anyhoo...

Being incapacitated for a couple of weeks and now being mobile but slow and wobbly has given me time to reflect on all the teeny tiny things about hiking that I have been taking for granted but can now no longer do.  I like to think of myself as someone who has always pondered the smaller details, but there's a lot I have missed.

Also, although this is a light and cheery blog, these events have totally driven home to me issues around access to the outdoors that I had not previously considered.  That's a topic I am not even remotely qualified to tackle, but if you're interested in learning more about that then follow Debbie North, she's the accessibility champion for Julia Bradbury's The Outdoor Guide.

Right, back to the list of things I have missed...

1. Carrying things - for the first two weeks I was totally reliant on my crutches and couldn't even carry a cup of tea.  I repurposed my rucksack for a lot of the carrying and using flasks for hot drinks, but a G&T simply does not taste the same out of a flask.

2.  Pulling on a fresh pair of walking socks - who knew socks were so complicated?  I can just about do them on my own now - on the plus side I had to invest in some very snazzy long socks to go under my aircast.  Whaddya think?

3. The comforting feeling of a good pair of walking boots - I *love* my boots but it's going to be a good 6 weeks or so before I can wear them again.  Or at least wear both of them.  I love the safe and secure feeling of lacing them up and knowing I'm good to go!

4.  Walking without pain - a small thing but worth mentioning.  Walking has always been my 'thing' - not just on the fells but everywhere.  I have walked through towns and cities whenever I can - you always learn so much more about a place that way.  Now that every single step is at best uncomfortable (when I walk in the house) and at worst really painful (after 100 yards or so) I truly miss the ease with which I walked everywhere without giving it a second thought.

5. The sound of grass on my boots.  I *love* this sound.  I posted this short video on my FB page a month or so ago but hardly anyone paid it any attention so I assume it's just me.  There's a very specific sound long grass makes when it bounces off my boots and I love it!

(I *always* get my boots from the fab folks at Keswick Boot Company)

6.  Stiles.  Oh how I have bitched and moaned about stiles at the end of a long hike when all I want is a gate, but no more!  I realise a) how lucky I am to be able to hop over a stile and b) how utterly prohibitive they are if you are less mobile.

7.  Going out alone.  This whole 'new normal' has taken a bit of getting used to for me.  In the past my job saw me travelling the length and breadth of the country and now I never need to leave the house for work.  To restore some sanity I had created a 'fake commute' where each morning and evening I would go for a walk to top and tail my working day - it truly was a sanity saver.  Thing is, for now, I am not allowed out on my own.  I voluntarily handed in my crutches at the earliest opportunity so as not to get overly reliant on them and to get my foot moving again as soon as possible (Doc said he was OK with it if I was), but it's still early days and I need a walking pole on one arm and a bloke on the other.  Don't get me wrong, Steve is indeed a wonderful man, but I do miss going out on my own.

8.  The people I meet - during my fake commute I've chatted to plenty of people and really enjoyed getting to know a few 'regulars' that I'd bump into most mornings. Obviously I've no way of letting them know I'm out of action, and I wonder if they have even noticed I've vanished, but I do miss the quick chats and making friends with assorted dogs.

9.  Being invisible - this one was a big shock to me.  I've often heard people say that they feel invisible in wheelchairs but, for me, it has been the exact opposite.  In order to cover a reasonable distance at a reasonable speed, we gratefully accepted the loan of a wheelchair from a lovely friend.  This enabled us to get all the way from Hest Bank to Morecambe Jetty and back over the weekend.  Never have I been so stared at!  We made the journey with a combo of me walking a little then Steve pushing me in the chair.  When I was in the chair I was constantly stared at and was quite taken aback that no-one thought it a particularly rude thing to do.  Mind you, Steve wasn't to be entirely trusted with wheelchair duty...

10.  Chocolate biscuits!  Honestly - you thought lockdown was bad! I'm barely burning any calories at the moment so am on a strict 'no snacks' diet.  Oh how I miss a long day yomping over the fells with a rucksack full of sarnies and chocolate, and coming home to a huge pizza or plate of pasta, knowing that I have burned it all off during the day.  I've replaced my favourite chocolate digestive with raw carrots, which I quite enjoy, but it's not the same.  Thanks to the lovely folks at Shed 1, who sent me this as a get well pressie, I can still enjoy my gin ration in the evenings!  Cheers!

And if gin is your thing - check out our Gin, Cake and Rucksacks book where I explore the gin distilleries of Cumbria with a complete stranger.  I'm amazed we didn't break anything then, to be honest!

Click here to order

Please help Mountain Rescue

If you follow this blog you will know that I very rarely host a guest piece or include news items, but this is crucial.  Mountain Rescue are buckling under the strain of dealing with calls from ill prepared hikers.  Ranting and raging does nothing to help but education does.

Please have a read of the press release below and share it far and wide - to help Mountain Rescue we need to help people understand the risks they take in the fells and how to be better prepared for them.  

Thank you.

Rescuers Plea for Help 

Cumbria Police and the Lake District’s Mountain Rescue Team’s have seen a tidal wave of avoidable rescues that is putting a real strain on our volunteer team members and is unsustainable. Since last Friday evening we have had 19 callouts in the Lake District with a focus on the Wasdale team with 9 of these incidents. Wasdale Mountain Rescue Team cover Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England and a magnet for walkers and climbers. Many of our walkers and climbers are very experienced and know exactly what they are doing. However, 11 of the callouts were truly avoidable with inexperienced and ill prepared walkers finding themselves in serious, life threatening trouble being either missing or lost. 

The Cumbria weather which was accurately forecasted this weekend has caught out many but Cumbria Police have also commented that many are dialling in ‘999’ calls with as little as 1% battery remaining on their mobile phones. This means that after the initial call their battery dies and the mountain rescue team cannot get back to them which makes finding them a bigger challenge requiring more numbers of the volunteers. Many are relying on smart phone mapping apps which drain batteries and no back up. 

The rescue on Scafell Pike late on Saturday night in forecasted atrocious conditions for a family group of three lasted 12 hours and involved five rescue teams. 

Stay vacation holidays are introducing a new type of visitor to the National Parks and the current quarantine rules has the potential to make the matter worse. North Wales is experiencing a similar problem and we are sure that the same is being felt across many of the UK’s outdoor holiday destinations, great for the economy but a real issue for the volunteer rescue teams. 

What can you personally do as a new or even regular visitor to help our volunteer teams? 

Exercise within your limits and avoid taking risks. Know your level of skill, competence and experience and those of your group. Make sure you have the right equipment for your trip to the hills and valleys noting that many of our callouts are low down in the valley bottoms. Learn how to navigate, take a water proof map and a compass, don’t rely on smart phone technology it can let you down. Take a torch, even on the longest days, you never know when your activity will catch you out or you go to the help of a fallen, cragfast or lost walker. Take a power bank battery charger it will save you a lot of grief plus allow you to take even more of the memory photos. 

Be kind to our volunteers and respectful to our emergency service, our rural communities and to our farmers. 

There is good and essential advice on the website Adventure Smart UK 

So Stay Safe: #BeAdventureSmart make your good day better.

Visit Adventuresmart.UK

The Lockdown Blog - Work and Panic

I've been racking my brains about what to write.  I am never usually short on ideas but, right now, I am.  At least when it comes to this blog.

Lots of folks have been writing about their experiences of lockdown, well, I can summarise my experience in two words:  Panic and Work.  With my income wiped and us not qualifying for any government grants we have both worked incredibly hard to reinvent my business skills training online.   

Luckily I already ran around 20% of my courses online but even so, this has been a MASSIVE shift for us and has required us learning seemingly endless pieces of new software.  See - not very interesting is it?  (For the record, yes we could apply for a loan, but really do not want to put pressure on the future business or we could furlough ourselves but would then be unable to work on the business and, consequently, not have a business to come back to.)  You can find all of my courses here - and I promise they're fun and excellent value for money!

Other than work we also managed to create a radio studio in our spare room, allowing me to continue my shows on Lake District Radio.  At one point I was presenting 7 shows a week and it provided a much needed break from the work worries.  I'm still on air Weds/ Thurs/ Fri 5 - 7pm and Saturdays 9am - 12 noon and you can listen in here.

We walked along the prom a LOT - even venturing as far as Kents Bank a couple of times.  Never once have we taken where we live for granted and every single time we go out we are thankful for where we live.

For a bit of variety we also wandered up into the woods, which were really pretty when the bluebells and garlic were out.  Now long gone.  We discovered new paths and got lost a few times too.

It's also been incredibly hard to know what to write about the lockdown.  One small word can be taken and twisted out of context.  Usually I do everything I can to encourage people to come up here and discover this amazing county for themselves, but that is wildly inappropriate just now.  I also didn't want to post too many photos from our walks in case it came over as gloating - "oooohhh look how lovely our views are" if folks were stuck in lockdown somewhere less green and lovely.

Over the last week or so, as things have eased, we ventured a little further afield - all the way to Lindale - where we enjoyed a blissful walk and didn't see a soul all day.

As I write this I still plan on staying home, or close to home, as much as possible.  Visitors have descended and, despite government rulings, there are plenty of people staying overnight in holiday homes, second homes, camper vans, tents etc.  Sadly, many are not observing the 2m distance guide so, to be safe, I'm staying away and only heading out very early, or very late.  The road near our house has been busy all day long, so I'll stay in the garden for now - even though I'm as desperate to get back into the fells as everyone else - I can, and will, wait.

So there you have it.  Not particularly exciting.  To be honest I wrote this as much for me as anyone else to remember what it was like.  Work and Panic still dominate as we try to figure out what happens next.  

One thing lockdown has taught me is how utterly amazing our friends are - they have sent food, gin (yay!), hard cash, art and even stained glass (see @GlassBasics on Twitter - he's ACE!) to cheer us up and help us along.  Some have also offered serious financial support for which I am deeply grateful - I have politely declined, at least for now, because I know that what we really need is a long term plan.  I am also indebted to the folks who signed up for our courses and bought our books.  Every single sale means an extraordinary amount to us at the moment.

It's easy to say "go out and find a job" but, in a region that is dominated by the decimated hospitality sector, jobs are pretty thin on the ground.  Plus we started our business 14 years ago and have battled long and hard to get to where we are now - I am not walking away without and almighty fight!

Maybe normal service will be resumed soon, or perhaps it will be months, or even years before things return to 'normal' - or maybe they never will be quite the way they were before.  Whatever happens the blog stays and so do we - my favourite line is "I'll think of something" and I will.  I know I will.  It may just take me a little longer than usual...

One last cheeky request - we are still selling our books right here and are happy to sign them for you. We have also signed up to Ko-Fi so you can support us by buying us a virtual coffee right here.