Carlisle & District Rambling & Fellwalking Club
Walk & Event Reports
Sunday 19th March 2017
Only Walk
Forest Head Quarry - Tindale Tarn
7 Miles Grade 3
Leader: John McKay
Report by Peter Flynn
Photos by Pete Rutland, John McKay & Peter Flynn
A Bridge (almost) Too Far
The decision to cancel the trip to Coniston was very much vindicated when the lucky 13 stepped out of the cars somewhere past Talkin and literally in the middle of nowhere. Out of the 4 cars only one (driven by yours truly) managed to go in the correct direction – even though neither I nor the passengers had a clue where we were going. An anonymous ex policeman suggested that we had arranged to follow his car (he was following another who was following the walk organiser) but he failed to see the role of inspiration in direction finding. And to take into account the fact that we were at a crucial junction 5 minutes ahead of the rest – and we simply do not accept that this was because they waited for us to catch up. When we eventually arrived, it was pouring down. With a vengeance. One person (by coincidence the driver of the “inspired” direction car) was shod for the trip – in wellies – the rest wore boots (that rapidly became very muddy). It was a splodge from the word go. We splodged down the road and onto hillside. There were lakes and rivers where none had existed previously. The paths were under water and vast numbers of worms had surfaced to see all the fun. We splodged past some old mine workings and found an RSPB centre where we took the liberty of sheltering for an early lunch. Then onto the shores of Tindale Tarn and to our great adventure. Stephen had warned us about a stream with a plank across it – very dodgy. The plank had been washed away but we found a thin, slippery metal bar further downstream and it did present a great deal of fun. One or two made it across no bother. Then several felt better with a bit of assistance. The anonymous ex policeman helped Joan across (after all, he wanted to eat his dinner and not have it thrown at him) and then retired to a safe distance so he could video the antics of the later crossers. He suggested they turn to face the camera when they were in the middle of the bar so that he could get their best side, but strangely no one took up the offer. As no one bothered to fall in, the be-wellied walker remembered he had a rope in his sack, one end was thrown across the stream and secured by two of those who had been successful and two of the last three crossed in comfort and safety. From there it was a muddy splodge across the hillside of some unknown (to us) fell and back to the cars. An amazing walk, one that will not be forgotten in a hurry, and while Coniston has its charms and attractions, I suspect we all enjoyed this one tremendously. Many thanks to John for leading it.
Peter Flynn.
