The guidebook said it was a pleasant 4-1/2 hour stroll from Keld to Reeth in a neighboring valley. As a matter of fact, it recommended not rushing this leg, since what would you do if you arrived in Reeth too soon. (Sleep, have tea, get souvenirs, find the internet, take lots of Advil…) As a matter of fact, you could arrive in Reeth in time for lunch. Where had we heard this before?
Keld is rightly proud of their waterfall.
Muker’s main street.
Following the guidebook’s advice, we detoured to Muker (Mew-ker), a village that specializes in handcrafted woolen items, to spend our extra time. It was wonderfully quaint. The store was quaint, the woolen store was quaint, the souvenir shop was quaint, even the washing basin in the public bathrooms was quaint. The people were nice and we tarried far too long. But then that’s our modus operandi anyway. We fiddle and adjust. One person disappears over there, another soon disappears over here. As Tom said, the unlikelihood of the five of us being in one place at the same time is part of our charm. (Actually he said something else, but this is my translation.)
Leaving Muker for Gunnerside, another small village, via a narrow footbridge over the rushing Swale River.
The most charming aspect of Muker, however, was not the little houses, shops, or gardens; it was the flagged path through the sheepfolds.
If you will remember, we have great experience tromping through sheepfolds. The farms of Muker use the pastures through which the path crosses to grow meadow grass to feed the sheep in the winter. The less we hikers tromp through their meadows the better. It was a pleasure to be able to walk through the sheepfolds without dancing around the goop or twisting our ankles in the rabbit holes. We sailed through five or six sheepfolds that way and were in Muker in no time.
Another aside about fidgeting and adjusting. We stopped a record three times within the first hour. This day was the worst day for weather changing on a dime. The minute we stepped outside the Keld Lodge, we were all putting on rain gear as the first drops of the day fell. About twenty minutes later, we were all removing the rain gear as the sun came through and we sweated our way up to the top of a hill. Of course, that meant the rain started again. Most of us ended up with our rain gear half on and half off, meaning one-half of most of us was soaked. (Don’t try to figure that out mathematically.)
It wasn’t really a day for admiring the countryside, although we did that. It was a chance to see a couple of small villages in action. Although the only people we saw were the shop people and a couple of people running errands, we peered into windows and oohed over gardens.
As we came over the rise for the last time, descending into the wide valley that is the home to Reeth, we were overwhelmed by how green everything is. The rain wasn’t really bothering us anymore. A fresh, cool breeze blew up the valley. We saw a strange “swinging bridge,” built in 2003 to replace a bridge destroyed by a flood in 2000. It’s just like the narrow footbridge by Muker. It was rebuilt to allow the congregations on both sides of the river to attend Sunday services. That’s quite a walk!
Although we got to town too late (5:00) to do much exploring, we did manage to search three pubs for pints of Old Peculiar, Frank’s obsession. It is a great ale, and it went well with our pub food dinner.Our “short stroll” into Reeth turned into an seven hour hike, but we learned a lot today.
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