Rest Day - Grasmere

 We woke to the sounds of birds outside the window this morning, and car doors slamming. Unfortunately, our room was right next to the car park and there were times during the night I thought a car was coming right through our window. On the other side of the room, we shared a wall with the men's toilet in the lobby. We didn't think the racking of the paper towel holder would ever end last night. Not exactly a restful night.

We are in the Islay room. 

 It is very overcast with chance of rain on and off all day, 51 deg with a high of 56. We were up and ready for breakfast when they started serving at 8:15. 

Dining room

Hot cocoa

Cranberry/raspberry tea

Porridge 

Avocado toast with poached eggs and bacon. Tweedies stack. 

The village of Grasmere is larger than the quiet hamlet of Rosthwaite. It is a quaint little village tucked away in a valley among the Lakeland Fells. It is the perfect place for a rest day. Of course, at this point I'm thinking anyplace would be good for a rest day!

Watching the Herdie Shop owner needle-felt a hare. She also had needle-felted sheep and mushrooms that were so cute. All the wool comes from local farmers and is tagged with the farm name on it. It is washed and carded in Yorkshire, then spun into fine worsted Herdwick yarns, woven into tweeds on the border of Cumbria and Yorkshire and finally sewn into pillows, handbags and other fine products in Cumbria, Lancashire and Yorkshire. I had to buy a bag of the wool to do some needle-felting myself.

Grasmere is packed with shops, cafes, discount outfitters, pubs and the main attraction:  a gingerbread shop in a tiny stone building which used to be the village school.

William Wordsworth was once a teacher here and he considered Grasmere “the loveliest spot that man hath ever found.” I might just agree with him if it hadn’t become such a tourist attraction.

Dove Cottage on the edge of Grasmere where Wordsworth lived (from 1799 – 1808) and wrote some of his most famous poetry. This area certainly inspires the creative juices! Reading his poetry after visiting Grasmere and the Lake District puts a whole new perspective on the meaning of his poetry.

One of his most famous poems:

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze …
I wandered lonely as a cloud

Today we decided to go for a walk around Easedale Tarn. I also wanted to walk up Helm Crag to get a closer look at the Lion and the Lamb and it appeared that I could take off from the same trail that led to Easedale Tarn. So off we went. 

It was drizzly and looked like it was going to be worse later in the day, so we decided to split up earlier and instead of walking with Jo Anne to Easedale Tarn and then heading up Helm Crag, I took off from where the two trails split. Funniest thing is she got back to the room only minutes before I did, 3 hours later. 

Yay! More rocky trails. 

The following are pics from Jo Anne’s walk. 

Sour Milk Gill Falls

Jo Anne had more of a climb on her walk around the lake than she anticipated. 

Another kissing gate 

Closer shot of the falls, which caused Jo Anne to break into song “How Great Thou Art”. 

She thought she was at the top when she was singing but soon realized she wasn’t. 

Easedale Tarn

You see these red mail boxes in the most unlikely of places.

Info about Wordsworth and his favorite woodland paths. 

The quakers meet for worship from 10:00-10:30 the 2nd & 4th Tuesday of the month.

Jo Anne visited the blackberry vines again.

The following are pics from my walk. Jo Anne isn’t as photolific as I am. (I know. Not a real word). 

Pics of the variety of trails. 

Looking back down the path at a couple of hikers coming up. 

Looking back down the valley from where I’ve come. 

From rocky trail to grassy near the top. Oh wait it just looks like the top. 

According to its owner, this dog picked up that 3’ stick and was taking it home with her. 

Nope. Not quite to the top yet. 

This is where the words to “Word of God Speak” by Mercy Me came flooding into my brain. 
“I'm finding myself at a loss for words, and the funny thing is it's okay.
The last thing I need is to be heard, but to hear what You would say. 
Word of God speak. Would You pour down like rain, 
washing my eyes to see your majesty, to be still and know,  that You're in this place. Please let me stay and rest in Your holiness. Word of God speak.

Is that me on the summit of Helm Crag. You bet it is.I feel like I’m on top of the world but it’s a mere 1437’. 

It doesn’t really look so much like a Lion and a lamb when you get close but it’s still an indescribable landscape. The symbolism of the Lion and the Lamb, according to Augustine, is the lamb is Christ sacrificed and the lion is Christ resurrected. He endured death as a lamb; he devoured it as a lion.

I turn to walk around the lion and see this lamb which has found a place to rest right on the edge of the drop off to the valley below. I’m once again without words. 

After taking a few minutes to catch my breath and get my rubbery legs to stop shaking, I begin the treacherous descent. 

Hmmm, not sure how I get from this point to the trail I see. It appears to be sheer rock face. I decide the best way is to just sit and inch my way down. Sure glad I wore my oldest hiking pants. 

Well this is not a good sign (no pun intended). 

Bags of huge boulders to make steps. It was right along here that my right foot got stuck between a rock and a hard place and down I went with both poles wedged into the ground beneath me. I thought well this is quite a conundrum. I couldn’t get my foot unstuck, so first order of business was getting my poles out from under me so I could leverage myself out of this tight spot. Too bad I don’t have a video. I’m sure it was quite a spectacle. I’m just glad it was soft ground I landed on and I wasn’t injured. In my head popped the words to “It’s Gonna Be Ok”. 

"Though the mountains may be moved into the sea. Though the ground beneath might crumble and give way. I can hear my Father saying over me, it’s gonna be ok. It’s gonna be ok." 

When I told Jo Anne about that later, she said that’s exactly what she was singing in her head the day we bouldered up Loft Beck. 

And here’s some of the work going on. They do a great job of making these stones look like they've been here forever.

Beautiful water coming down the mountain. Getting closer to the bottom. 

The lower I get, the more the path is covered with water. 

More fodder for cards. 

Narcissus flowered anemone 

I can’t get enough of these multi colored rock walls. 

And I’m down. 

I would say that these pants and my boots have been totally broken in. 

We both get cleaned up a bit and go to find a place to eat. Just so happens that Baldrey’s Tea room is right across the lawn from our Inn. 

I celebrated our safe returns with a sparkling water. I’m really living it up. 

Lunch was butternut squash soup with sage and honey and a corned beef sandwich with English mustard. I didn’t realize that English mustard has a lot of horseradish in it. Not my favorite but the soup was outstanding. It had Jo Anne looking up a recipe. 

We shared a sticky gingerbread with warm rum butter and custard. Have I mentioned that Grasmere is known for gingerbread?

After walking around town for awhile and burning off some of that lunch we head for the queue at Sarah’s Gingerbread. It is the best gingerbread I ever tasted. It is something between a chewy cookie and a cake and it is wrapped carefully in soft paper. It is the same recipe that Sarah Nelson, a local resident, created in 1854. She used to sell it in her yard, and it is so good the business is still going strong today. However, we’re here for the gingerbread ice cream. It started raining harder as we were standing in line so our rain coats were dripping when we made it into the shop only to hear that there was no ice cream today. 😢

William Shakespeare said: "If I had but one penny in the world, thou should'st have it to buy gingerbread." from Love's Labour's Lost

It seems everyone has a well-behaved, well groomed dog and it is one breed of dog walking by after another – big ones, small ones, short ones, tall ones, fat ones, skinny ones, long-haired, wiry-haired, short-haired, curly-haired, straight-haired, black, white, brown, spotted, and on and on. Rarely are they on a leash yet they never bother you or seem to bother each other. 

We walked by St. Oswald’s Anglican church and the cemetery where William Wordsworth and his family are buried.

The church is a relic itself and has been here since the 1200’s, but it is still in operation today. It is built in the same Gothic medieval style that we see in all the little settlements. This one has roughcast stone, slate roof, timber ceiling beams, and lancet windows.

It is dedicated to St. Oswald, who was king of Northumbria in 642. Along with parish churches across the land. they were having a special service of commemoration for the queen today at 4 pm.

Our stats for today:
17,707 steps
7.4 miles
64 floors

One more thought. I met a young man on the hike up the mountain today who seemed to be so moved by God’s creation. I saw him sitting in one place just looking out over it all for quite awhile. He was well ahead of me and as he came back down from the top he said “lovely”. I could tell he didn’t speak much English at all but we shared a few words about the landscape. It made me think of this scripture and I will close with it tonight.

"For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse." 

Romans 1:19-20