Day 5 Coast to Coast Patterdale to Burbanks

Day 5 Pictures
In spite of the early rain mentioned in the previous post, we actually walked out of the B and B in sunshine.

The heavy rain overnight had swollen Goldrill Beck, the beck throughPatterdale, stranding some sheep on small islands in the middle.
At Patterdale we needed to get a phone card to call our next accommodation, there being no mobile service, and the telephone not accepting coins.
There was the obligatory climb up from the beck to a saddle, at which time there was some navigational confusion, aggravated by the impending rain.
The predominant feature of the climb at this stage was the wind. But more on that later.
Once we sorted out our nav, we headed off again, following the hoards doing the C2C, the next objective Angle Tarn, a small lake, in a hanging valley.
Today the rain came in fits and starts allowing things to dry a little before hitting us again.
The wind picked up as climbed, to the point where a pack cover took flight and headed of towards Scotland.
The drystone wall we were following provide scant protection, just enough for Margaret to drop her tweeds for a pee, ignoring the passing walkers' in her need.
Lunch was taken early as another drystone wall provided a bit more shelter, however it was still brief and uncomfortable.
Our next objective was Kidsty Pike the highest point on the trail, by now an easy stroll along an exposed ridge top. Easy that is if the wind isn’t howling at right angles to your direction of progress.

Kidsty Pike

We got within about twenty metres of the top when the wind picked up to such an extent that it almost threw us off out feet.
It tore my pack cover from my pack creating a spinnaker, threatening even more to carry me over the edge.
It was so strong that we elected to give the pike a miss, and contour in the lee side to escape. The wind was truly formidable.
Some 100 metres off the pike I measured the wind with my pocket anemometer, as one does, and recorded a peak even then of 61 kph.
The walk off the ridge was precarious, steep and rocky with the wind continuing, with the rain squalls coming through just to add to the excitement.
A steep drop finally took us to Haweswater, an artificial lake that stores water for Manchester.
It was then an eight kilometre walk to Burbank, along a path that at times had more water flowing along it than most South Australian streams see in a life time.
We finally arrived at the phone box that we’d bought the aforementioned phone card for and called our accommodation. The wait was cold, now not walking of course.
Our host arrived with a van and was a cheery Liverpudlian, and after a 20 minute drive we arrived at the Strickland Arms, in Great Strickland.
There is a little Strickland, though I am not sure what makes it little or Great Strickland great!
The pub is cosy, we are the only guests, my bed on this occasion being a camp stretcher, such is life. Arrienne and Peter’s bed is vast and could sleep the three of us.
The dining room is just part of the pub, it has a wood burning stove, now littered with our boots.
The menu is vast, and the food when it arrives satisfies us all.
It’s been a long day, 23 km and in spite of the wind quite a good one.
We are looking forward to a shorter less windy day tomorrow.