Last year, Carly (my friend) and I were craving some mountains, so naturally we drove to the Lake District that weekend. We had a lovely time. Hikes lots. Took lots of pictures. End of Story.
If only!
Our plan was to leave on the Friday around 11am ish, to be there for around 4pm. We decided to go ahead for a campsite that didn’t take bookings; an old style campsite that you rocked up to, pitched up with no faff. Carly had spent summers at this campsite before, so we knew it was a nice one to go to. For whatever reason, we didn’t leave until more around midday, which was fine! On a good run to the Lakes from Wiltshire, it’s around 4.5 hours.
Needless to say, things didn’t go so simple, and we actually arrived at our campsite for the night at 9/9:30pm.
So, what happened?
First - the traffic. Traffic, traffic, and more traffic.
At some point, our maps were telling us to get off of the motorway and take a detour. Fine, no problem. At one point, Carly reported her van brakes didn’t sound amazing (but they’d also only been checked a couple weeks prior to this!) but we pushed on. But the further and further we got, the worse they sounded. Initially Carly was thinking of trying to just get home - we were only just above Birmingham, despite having spent 3 hours driving, so in theory should only be about 1.5 hours home. After some discussion, we decided to at least try and find a garage that would at least take a look.
The first garage was unfortunately full and couldn’t even spare a glance, but we did find some lovely people at a garage that took a look and told her it in fact, was dangerous to drive. So, we could either bail on the trip or…
Nope! Chucked all the dogs into my van, along with Carly’s things. Cue, a very full SWB Caddy, and the Lakes were back on! Nothing can stop us!
More Traffic.
I think I remember our ETA being something like 9pm. It was currently 5pm. The dog’s hadn’t been out of the van other than for a wee at the garage (where the mechanics told us there may be needles around, so that’s a very fitting description of the area we were in!), so we really needed to stop off to also let them for a leg stretch too.
So, while I was driving, Carly rung the campsite to ask if it was ok if we got there late. Next hiccup.
Vibe & Fume on Pavey Ark, Vibe is wearing a boot from Non-Stop Dogwear to protect her infected foot!!
The campsite had flooded.
They told us to try the following day, but that still left us with nowhere to stay for that night.
At this point, Carly was starting to feel really car sick. So, she’s fighting that and trying to scramble to find another campsite. A campsite in the Lake District for the night, can’t be that hard, right? Apparently, the school summer holidays are not it, for trying to find space. Carly’s battling her car sickness, I’m battling to keep my will to live.
We manage to find a random pop-up campsite, stopped off at a random footpath. Let the dogs have a leg stretch. Got to this ‘campsite’ (in all honesty - that’s a generous term. It was a field on a hill, with portaloos and taps that said no drinking water) in the dark. I have a living pod tent that I pop all of my stuff in when camping, but otherwise sleep in my van. Carly decides to use that to sleep in rather than her own tent, since it takes about 10 minutes to pop up vs her tent which would take much, much longer.
In record time, the tent is up, dogs are fed, and we are so ready to be in bed.
The next morning, we were exhausted. We woke up early, with the idea to drive over to the original planned campsite to see how things were, and go for a hike. Carly was ill and could barely eat. Neither of us were able to eat properly the day before, I think the last hot thing I had was a greggs vegan sausage roll on the way up. But it’s fine - we’re seizing this get away!
We pack up, get on with our lives.. and…
My van won’t start.
At this point, I turn to Carly, and say “This trip is cursed” and we decide that we might well be going home today (Saturday).
The issue was, either we went home Saturday, or Monday (as we couldn’t get her van on a Sunday). So we needed to find a campsite for 2 nights at this point. We decided to drive to the campsite and then decide where to go from there.
Got to the campsite, right outside it had a sign out saying campsite full.
Hang on weren’t they flooded?!
Anyway, sure enough. There were people camped there.
Decision made, we’re going home.
Based on the time, we had time to do half the hike we’d had planned, so the dogs could get a good walk in, then get down south enough to collect Carly’s van before the garage closed. We had absolutely no phone signal on ground level, so we needed to get up high anyway to try and contact the appropriate people, who now thought we were coming home Monday (including the garage, who thought we were getting the van Monday).
The car parking card machine charges us twice. We almost die from lack of nutrition at this point. The dogs are having the time of their lives. The vibes are high (for the dogs).
Amongst the chaos, we stop for lunch. I think having some food levelled us out a bit.
Summit, Jet, Vibe & Fume near Stickle Tarn (facing away from the tarn)
New plan: go and demand the campsite gives us a space
(they told us to come see them anyway!)
So, with new found energy, we get down the mountain and I muster up all my strong-independent girl power. I drive in, despite all the signs saying campsite full. The ground there must recover well from flooding, I thought! And despite the ‘flooding’ the campsite was, indeed, full.
I go in, ready to fight out cause. “Hi, I know it says the campsite is full but you told us last night to come up today and-“ and they simply just asked what we needed and gave us a pitch. Anyway, no fight happened. We got our pitch. Weekend saved!
We had a lovely evening that day, exploring a nearby fell (Lingmoor Fell) which to this day, is still one of my favourite hills, with beautiful views over the near langdales.
The next day we went to do a long hike in the Langdales, we were having a lovely time when I said “the trail goes this way” and Carly was like, “wtf” and I was like “but it’s saying to go this way” anyway, cue Carly’s biggest panic attack of her life, climbing up a cliff face (slightly exaggerated) when Summit decides to leap off it. From Carly’s point of view, it looks like he’s jumped off the side of a cliff and fallen to his death.
My point of view, and I swear this is true, he literally leaps to this man who just opens his arms and catches him. It would’ve been a meter drop to the ground otherwise. This lovely Scottish man then helps Carly out of her predicament, and I just skirt around the alternative route.
Later Carly and I have a much needed chat about not following All Trails!
Carly & Summit Scrambling moments before the panic going up to Pike of Stickle
If only, everything ended there.
Monday, we’re almost ready to pick Carly’s van up. When my van starts making funny noises. Brilliant. I was working that evening, could have really done with getting home!
The people at the garage save our asses, yet again, and it turns out I just needed new tyres. Mildly embarrassing, but panic over.
It also turns out, a coat I bought on that trip is in fact, not waterproof at all.
We’re looking for hopes and prayers for our next trip to the Lakes next week!
Fume on Lingmoor Fell, behind her are the Langdale Pikes
