Day 2 - Ennerdale to Honister Hause: Fog on the Barrow Downs

6 1/2 miles, 4 hours, acres of green, green grass
Accommodation: YHA Honister Hause

Misty, rainy morning - just a little mao mao yu. I set my alarm to 6:30 am by mistake, instead of 7:30. I didn't realize my mistake for a while, so was wondering where everyone was and why breakfast was being started so late. I used the extra time to sit outside on the picnic bench - read the YHA's copy of Gaskell's North and South. Give me a Victorian novel with lots of yummy details and I'm happy. Also laughed at the sheep baahing nearby - one in particular sounded so weird, like a human making fake sheep noises. They were very noisy, in an un-noisy way.
We had an English fry up - D felt skivved out by his, especially with that dinner from last night. We decided on the low route. Not being "supermen" as Wainwright says we must be to attempt it, we didn't feel up to the High Stile alternative - especially with the fog and D's wonky knee. From the low route - a very pretty path thru the valley forest - we were quite happy with our decision, especially seeing how damn steep and high above us it was. The valley and view of the falls was lovely, like "Fog on the Barrow Downs" without the sinister feeling.
We got to Black Sail Hut YHA and it's nestled on the fair green downs before one gets to the craggier peaks. We promptly sat down on the lovely grass and had our elevenses. It was absolutely peaceful and still and, again, not a soul in sight.

What a lunch spot!

The grass here is unbelievable. It's a new feeling just to lie down freely on the ground - and not in a park but in the wilds.

Then we made our way up Loft Beck. We climbed alongside the beck (stream) but though steeper, it didn't feel half as bad as Dent. Maybe because all was misty and sweet. We met a dad and daughter coming down, with their dog Charlie, who carried his own pack on his back. He must've been tired - while we talked he promptly lay down for a quick snooze. The dad was very jolly and nice - told us to spread the word in the States about the Lakelands. Told us he thought of 3 things when we mentioned Chicago: 1) good food, for some reason, 2) mobsters, and 3) cars. The third confused us - "Maybe Michigan, more, perhaps?" He told us how at the tender age of 11 he ran away from home to see the mountains for 3 weeks. When he returned home they were holding his memorial service! "Dad beat the stuffin' outta me - but did it stop me? No! And here I am!" They were so warm, and happy to see some Americans in the fells. Come to think of it, so far we've met no other Americans.
At the top of Loft Beck we had a gorgeous view of Ennerdale Water and Buttermere, especially the Innominate Tarn, which we were sad to miss but, hey, our knees need to survive all 192 miles! The top was Quietness Embodied in Landscape - sheep grazing round the grass and cairns. D has dubbed himself Cairn Builder, since we can't be Fell Walkers as we haven't walked a proper fell yet! And what am I? Pee Taker, maybe?

The view down to Ennerdale Water from the top of Loft Beck - it's amazing to think we were there yesterday - and have walked all the way to where we're standing!

Still on Loft Beck, looking now to our right at the Innominate Tarn - "a quiet place, a lonely place," as Wainwright describes it - and asked to have his ashes spread by it, which they were.

Down a torturously rocky path to Honister Slate Mine - noisy and ugly after all the quiet beauty. We got the shop - nothing worth buying, and the YHA Honiser Hause - closed, and it was only 1:30! With no really sufficient lunch we decided to hoof it another hour to Seatoller for a pub. For me, the trek down (and later up) was painful, with a tendon in my left foot very tender. I have some moleskin and duct tape on my right, which helps, but the left doesn't seem to improve with anything. Sigh.
Ate at the Yew Tree Pub - a low ceilinged, wood beamed hobbity place. Leek and chicken pie, stuffed jacket potatoes with "Coronation Chicken" (??) and cocoa with marshmallows. Ahhh. After that, and fiddling with moleskin, we trudged back up to the YHA.
Dinner with a very nice couple from Hereford - John and Linda - and Johann, from the Netherlands (was also at the YHA Ennerdale, but we sat at another table). John and Linda will give us all a ride down the hill tomorrow - we aren't cheating as we've already trekked to Seatoller! They were fun to talk to, and the YHA worker also. He was a graphic designer, worked 10 hrs/day and hated it and chucked it all to work here and go climbing everyday. He's going to New Zealand and to pay for it is going to partake in a medical trial! Sometimes I wish I were as carefree/reckless. The owners of the mine nextdoor fly a helicopter in and out everyday. The YHA guy is attempting to get in their good graces so he can score a ride.
Everyone here seems to hate London, and if they worked there they wanted to get out as soon as possible. Linda said, "Once you've seen Big Ben and Parliament there's nothing else - you should just get the hell out of there." She told us about a tour of a cave that contains a generator under a lake (sucking the water in and out of the lake for hydro-energy). She said they turn it on at strategic moments - like during commercial breaks in the World Cup, when everyone puts on their kettles!
I played Gin Rummy and 9 Card Brag with John and Linda and Johann, and then D joined us for Jenga (as D doesn't do cards). Now we're journalling in our 2-bunk room before sleep. So far so good - no rain, almost no hikers, YHA emptyish tonight (for once, says the worker). We saw 3 women who were at the Tomlin House on our way back up from Seatoller to Honister Hause. "Why are you coming this way?" they asked. D: "Oh, we've already been to Robin Hood's Bay and back."
Tomorrow: low route, maybe? Rather than Calf Crag and all that. Maybe save our knees and muscles for Helvellyn. We are just amateurs.