Crook o' Lune, Where There May Be Dragons

Matthew was with me today, and since he's had no exercise for nearly a week I decided to make it a fairly long walk. Also, it was a nice day, so why not spend a chunk of it outside, eh? Matthew wanted to go to the Crook o' Lune, so that's what we did.

Here it is. My descriptions are going to be lacking a bit of detail today because, although I'm saying 'today', this was actually three days ago and my memory is getting a bit fuzzy. 

Down some paths flanked by that delicious-smelling wild garlic.

And into the lamb field. We spent a bit of time marvelling at how much the lambs had grown, and I wondered aloud whether they were eating size now. Sorry Auntie Trish. However, we did decide that, because we've become great friends with the lambs over the past few weeks, we don't want to eat them anymore. So that's nice.

Sheep are funny, aren't they? They watch you and even sometimes try to get a bit closer, as if they fancy a chat, but they scarper as soon as you make a move towards them.

Through two big fields and then into the woods. Last time we were here, it was very dark and we heard werewolves and possibly some goblins – though it's hard to tell with goblins because they sound a bit like foxes. It's so different here during the day; much more friendly, although not for wheelchairs or prams.

I tried out the iPhone on a couple of close-ups. Hmmm, it seems that Apple have decided to sacrifice macro photography in favour of gigantic landscapes because I can no longer focus on flowers. Shame.

Woods. Woodsy woods. Skipping along the woodsy paths. La di da. I think we were having a cracking conversation somewhere around here, but I've completely forgotten what we talked about so I can't tell you. Also, I'm listening to the Beatles as I'm writing and they're completely distracting me. Something, something, la la la la, Norwegian wood ...

Oh yeah! I've remembered now – we were talking about our memories of this walk from years ago, because we've walked here a lot. Matthew couldn't remember very much about it, so we deduced that the last time we were here before this year was probably when he was four. He vaguely remembered this little bridge. And when I reminded him that I had mostly carried him on my back around these parts, he said that that sounded familiar.

He didn't remember this next bridge at all. I'm not sure what this bridge is for, but it carries pipes across the river. Pipes of what, I don't know. But I did know that we needed to cross it as part of our walk.

Strange bridge, eh? All railings and openness. If you look down under your feet, you can see the river.

And it has this at the end of it. There's never anyone here and I've never seen that door open, so I have to assume that it's a portal to another world. Seriously, I can't think what else it might be. It could be one of the ways into Narnia.

Next, I knew we needed to cut across a couple of fields here, but I couldn't remember in which direction and none of the trees looked familiar, so we just struck out for the middle-ish and hoped the way would present itself. It's not really as though we could get lost here.

That thing in the middle is a sheep, not a rock. Stupid iPhone camera.

Past the trees and the field opened up. I was keeping a wary eye out for cows, as you'll recall from yesterday that I don't really trust the buggers. Matthew had made the offer of a hand to hold if we did happen to see any, so that made me feel better. How holding my son's hand would actually be of any use if an evil cow did decide to run at me, I don't know, but I'm only human and humans are weird.

We found the river again – it's very twisty in these parts, which is possibly why it's called the Crook. This was where we saw a dead sheep – the tiny white splodge on the opposite bank. We stood here for a while, speculating over how it had died and how recently. I won't tell you our theories because they got pretty gory, even though there was no gore to be seen.

Anyway, quite some way to go so we thought we'd best get a move on. This nice view looked a little bit familiar to me, so I guessed that if we just followed the river around we'd get to where we needed to be. Easy. (Clougha Pike in the distance, just so you know.)

Alright, missus? See what I mean? They're quite curious and they'll have a staring competition with you, but if you make a move towards them they think you're going to kill them.

Dude! I'd absolutely love to stroke one, and they have very pretty faces, but I'll never get anywhere near. And quite right too. Never trust a human, little lamb.

This path was definitely familiar – really, none of this walk is difficult. It's completely flat and all you need to do is walk in a rough sort of circle. It's very pleasant though, especially on a nice day. It's got the whole shebang – water to cool off and shade in the woods, but great big skies and a view of a huge chunk of the valley. Awesome.

Ah. A fork in the road. Erm. Left, let's go left. We went left. But we could've gone right and it wouldn't really have mattered because we're learning that all roads seem to lead to the same place anyway.

We finally found a place that was definitely familiar to Matthew because this is where you can skim stones. Or where some people can skim stones – I can't because I can't skim stones at all. I can throw stones because, well, that's not difficult. But I've never mastered the trick of skimming. If anyone would like to teach me, I'd very much like to learn. It's good to have a skill.

Oooh, a fisherman. We didn't want to disturb the fish or annoy the fisherman, so skimming stones was out today. But we also very much wanted to sit by the river and have a rest and a snack, so we had to creep down, which wasn't easy on pebbles.

Pebbles and bricks, actually. These bricks could be really old, or they could be not very old at all. One of them says 'Claughton' on it, because Claughton is a little village (pop. 209) very near here and it has a brickworks that's still in operation. Interesting fact of the day.

Ahhhh, a rest. I'm not sure how quiet we were because the fisherman flounced off down the river as soon as we sat down, probably disturbing the fish more than we did.

Here we sat for a snack of breadsticks and cream cheese. Matthew is a little organiser and he likes to put snacks in plastic containers so that we've definitely got fuel if we start to flag halfway.

We never sit for very long though. Off again, and we'd found our objective – the cycle track on the other side of the river. Bravo. And brava.

Matthew did remember very clearly that we always used to pretend to be hobbits when we reached this bit, because it looks like a scene from Lord of the Rings, the one in which Frodo and his pals have to get off to the road to hide from the Black Rider.

'Get off the road, Frodo!' (This scene used to scare the bejeesuz out of me!)

Most of the landscape around the Crook o' Lune looks quite Tolkienesque, I think. Crooked trees and winding streams, forests and undergrowth. I still scan the skies now and then for dragons, and I don't think the orcs have all gone. You need to keep your wits about you.

Pretty, ain't it?

It is possible I talk about orcs and suchlike a bit too much on our walks because Matthew has taken to switching sides with me if we approach anything that looks like it could be a hiding place for some fell creature. I wonder if he'd feel a bit safer if we brought our wooden swords with us. When we're on holiday in Northumberland, we never leave our cottage without our wooden swords.

But you've seen this cycle track before, so you know we were nearly back at the car. Four miles, in the bag. Nice. I purposely chose the fields and woods first with the cycle track last so that we'd be treated to this view right at the end. Seriously, look at that – would you be at all surprised if a dragon appeared in the distance? Because I wouldn't.

Until tomorrow, fellow orc slayers.

WQ