Day 6 (July 20): Robin Lane and a Bum Knee

This was Arielle’s first full day, so she slept in till 10 and woke a bit groggy. I had woken early and sat outside on the bench across the green, listening to the Gilpin rush and chatter in its stony bed beside me, working on morning pages, listening to Lectio 365, and practicing my German on Duolingo. When Arielle was ready, we hopped into the car (well, with my bum knee, I kind of eased myself in), and headed into Windermere to purchase some needed supplies before heading to Troutbeck and Robin Lane.

Windermere was a headache at midday in high tourist season. Traffic inched along. We snagged a parking space in a downtown car park after circling for a while, and walked to the store. Arielle purchased a lovely hat on the way back, and then we tootled off to Troutbeck, taking the tiny back roads. It was busy, but we parked down the road a ways and then started up Robin Lane, which has some lovely views of Lake Windermere and isn’t too steep.

Don’t you love Arielle’s hat?

At this gate we should have taken the lower path (toward Ambleside) but instead took the upper, which led us higher into the fells. 

However, my knee soon let me know that walking up a rocky path was not its idea of a good time. I tried to keep pace with Arielle, but after an hour realized that I should go no further, or my knee would fall off entirely. I hate this! I feel so old. So we turned back, had a consoling cream tea at the Old Post Office in Troutbeck, and then drove back to Ambleside, where Arielle walked to the Stock Ghyll Force and I sat reading and dozing in the parking lot. That will be my fate from now on—and I’m glad it’s something I enjoy.

Then back through the mess of Windermere traffic, though we decided to try an alternate back route to GilpinView. This could have proved fatal, as we met a Royal Mail truck coming around a curve and only just stopped in time. I want to make it clear that he was speeding and that we were going along very sedately in second gear—20 mph—so this near miss wasn’t our fault. But still… The tiny back lanes are lovely, but you are always aware that death may lie around the next corner. Arielle is a brave woman to ride with me.

We finally returned to our quiet cottage and a dinner of soup and cheese sandwiches (again—but who can get tired of that? Not me). We planned an early bedtime in order to rise early enough to drive through a still sleeping Windermere the next morning on our way to Hardknott Roman fort and a driving tour of the south Lake District. Another hair-raising ride on tiny back roads—yay!