Issue # 97 Rust & Dust in Ennerdale

And reflections on a strange spring so far

What is there to say about this spring so far? Other than it has been unlike any other spring I can remember. So warm and so dry and every small thing that grows so eager and so full that I barely recognise the season at all. Typically spring arrives in fits and spurts, plants flowering and buds bursting sequentially allowing study of each individual species with greater clarity. This year it has all come at once in a dizzying explosion of green, purple, yellow and white; it is hard to know where to focus. I have missed the slow unfurling of ferns, and the soft green glow of fresh translucent leaves has already faded.

This time last year we bemoaned the lack of light, the never-coming of spring after the longest winter, but this year it feels as if it’s all happening a little too fast; we are already in midsummer in our hearts and minds.

There is another sense of uneasiness. Is this weather normal? Deep down I think we all know it is not. The becks are slowly running dry and water is barely trickling in the falls. It makes you wonder, what if one day the rain never comes back?

Chores, admin and obligations (all of which we try to keep to a minimum) heed no notice of the seasons however and there is still work to be done whilst the sun shines. It feels as though commitments have been keeping us from big days in the mountains, so instead we have been exploring locally, taking short hikes along the rivers, swimming, canoeing and riding bikes.

Scenes from local explorations

This weekend we headed out on rusty bikes to the dry, dusty gravel trails of Ennerdale. We cycle infrequently enough that whenever we head out on our bikes it feels like an adventure. Cycling seems prohibitively expensive to get into with any seriousness, so we make do with whatever bikes and random bits of kit we have accumulated over the years: Emma rides my mountain bike from when I was a teenager, I have a half decent mountain bike that I bought second hand a few years back that has aged badly, rusting in the West Cumbrian coastal air and Benji probably fairs better than both of us with his hand-me-down Isla Bike that will sadly be too small for him by next spring.

Riding bikes in Ennerdale

When I was younger I was massively into mountain biking - I’m a decent rider and a good bike mechanic so I have to try hard to not feel bad about heading out on rusty bikes without proper gear. But bad bikes are better than no bikes and as long as they are able to carry us speeding downhill on gravel tracks with glee then I guess it doesn’t matter.

The dry and dusty gravel road leading towards Black Sail YHA.

The 20 km route follows an undulating gravel track first along the lake and then up the river Liza towards Black Sail YHA. It’s pretty easy going but steadily uphill all the way and hard enough work in the unusually hot spring sunshine to make us sweat. We did this exact same route this time last year and although it was sunny, it was freezing cold. It was also much harder for Benji back then - it’s amazing how much stronger his legs are after just a year and he pedals up each incline with new found determination whereas last year there was a lot of walking and pushing.

The air is thick with willow seeds drifting along like snowflakes on the gentle breeze, and the songs of blackcaps, chiff chaffs and willow warblers fill what space is left as we pass under the dappled shade of willows and birches and back into the light again.

We make it to Back Sail, ford the river and cycle back down on the other side after a pause for lunch by the water’s edge. The good thing about the route being steadily uphill on the way, is that the way back is almost all down hill and we cycle at speed on the loose dusty gravel which threatens to slip away from underneath us at every turn. A clear blue pool offers respite from the heat and we stop to swim and refill our water bottles (and a good chance to try out our new LifeSaver Wayfarer Water Purifier).

Stopping for a swim

The landscape at Ennerdale is one of contradictions. Owned by Forestry England, the whole valley is dominated by the scars of commercial forestry and non-native conifer plantations yet flanked by wildly rugged peaks and scattered fragments of old oak woodlands. I find it hard to imagine the mindset of those who saw this remote valley as a good place upon which to impose the ecological harm of modern forestry. Things are changing however; it is now a National Nature Reserve managed in partnership by Natural England, The National Trust, United Utilities and Forestry England under the name Wild Ennerdale. Slowly, conifers are being removed and native broadleaved trees are spreading up the hills by their own volition and with help from tree planting. The project is massively ambitious; given the scale of the existing forestry plantations and the speed at which conifers naturally regenerate from the seed bank once felling has taken place I’m sceptical of how successful the project can be, but I hope they prove me wrong and one day this valley will be truly wild.

Refreshed, we cross the river again and rejoin the track running along the lake shore that leads back to where we started and the promise of ice cream on the way home.

As always when we come back from a bike ride, we have a list of things to buy or fix that would make things easier next time, like brakes that work, but for now we’re thankful for our rusty steeds and we hope for more pedal powered adventures soon.

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Well, that’s all for now - how has spring been where you are this year? Whatever the weather, we hope you’re managing to get out in Nature in one way or another!

Until next time, warm wishes,

Andrew, Emma and Benji

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