August 14, 1994: Arnside to Milnthorpe
I stand with Gavan, who is wearing his Harvard Din and Tonics sweatshirt,
on Arnside Pier at the start of our walk.
On Sunday morning, August 14, Gavan and I left Morshead Mansions at 8:00 and traveled by tube to Euston Square. We were about to undertake our fourth summer expedition together, having already completed the Wicklow Way in 1990, the West Highland Way in 1991, and the Two Moors Way in 1992. My former student had not yet begun life as a collegian during the first of these walks; now he was a recent Harvard graduate. A jet-lagged graduate, I could add, for he had arrived in London only the previous day. He brought his own pack this time, a splendid L.L. Bean creation, and by and large he seemed to have heeded most of my packing instructions, sent to him in Japan – as he circled the globe earlier this summer with the Harvard Din and Tonics.
When I was forced to spend an extra day in Cornwall because of the train strike in June I had no way of conceiving that almost two months later the signalmen and Railtrack would still be at war. Instead of an all-out stoppage, the British unions seem to prefer a war of once-a-week attrition – in which the customer pays the maximum price in inconvenience and uncertainty. There hadn’t seemed to be any reason to make seat reservations on a train that might not be running anyway and so today I wanted to arrive early to buy tickets and get seats. There was no line at the ticket window at Euston – but I was warned that there was only one unreserved coach and so we spent forty-five minutes or so debating when we should try to get in line. Gavan went to McDonalds and I had an orange juice. A train lady was trying to organize the masses in the queue but she seemed to be confused about the number of seats available or the best way of handling the crowds and when – well before she was ready – the guards opened the gates, there was a mad rush along the platform, particularly from the seatless passengers like ourselves – who dashed along the length of the train to find car B. We were lucky enough to find two seats facing one another but by the time the train took off at 9:50 it was obvious that others had not been so lucky.
Thus began a train ride from hell. At every stop more passengers got on and the aisles were soon clogged with haunted travelers aimlessly searching for seats among their resigned fellows – who had decided to treat the journey to Glasgow as a six-hour tube ride in which they might as well read the paper while standing all the way. The train folk offered no advice or comfort and didn’t even bother to check anyone’s ticket. Having cancelled a northbound train the night before (not a strike day) they might have anticipated this crush today but there seems to have been no evidence of this kind of forward planning. To make matters worse, I could see that the train was losing time and that the chances of our making a vital connection in Lancaster were slipping away. In Preston I actually saw our Barrow train leave the station while our train was squeezing in still more pilgrims. A few minutes later, however, we overtook this two-car shuttle and I began to feel better about the connection. We arrived in Lancaster about half an hour late but the connection was still five minutes behind us and we had no trouble climbing aboard at 2:15. Two stops and twenty-five minutes later we debarked at Arnside and watched our little train continue over the estuary bridge on a bright but cloudy and cool afternoon.
The Furness Way is one of three interconnecting Lakeland routes devised by Paul Hannon. He had provided a Wainwright-style guidebook for each and the maps and text had to be adhered to closely because the Way has no official status and was not sign-posted at any point. Unfortunately the text was rather small and I had even bought a magnifying glass – which I wore around my neck with compass and whistle – but Gavan’s younger eyes seemed to do rather well without this assistance and he usually carried the guidebook in my waterproof map case.
Hannon calls for a start at the short Arnside pier and so we made our way along the front of the village to this point, where I ate a sandwich while Gavan searched fruitlessly for some adhesive tape. The town’s bakeries were open on a Sunday – but not the chemist. We had our pictures taken by some day-trippers and at 3:00 we were ready to begin the short day’s stroll to Milnthorpe, five miles away.
We continued our walk past the trendy shops of the front and turned left to climb up into the village’s residential quarters – passing pet food shops and churches. At the top of a hill we turned left and descended to Black Dyke Road (which we re-dubbed African-American Lesbian Road to be politically correct). The first of our stiles stared at us across the street and once again we played the Gates versus Stiles baseball game invented on our Two Moors Way walk. Stiles were the victor this day, 16-8.
We crossed Arnside Moss on a fenced-in track and almost immediately encountered our first adventure. A sheep had stuck his head through one of the wire squares of the fence and he couldn’t free himself because his horns were caught every time he tried to back up. He was quite anxious but we had a go at freeing him. I tried manipulating the horn that was caught but this really required some forward movement and the sheep wanted to do just the opposite. Finally I began to move the free horn, twisting the sheep’s head so that it no longer engaged the wire. This worked and the terrified animal backed away at great speed – terrified no longer.
We passed over a lane and through a gap stile – which was supposed to “cause agony to any chunky walkers,” but only those with very chunky legs would have been perturbed. We passed through some limestone outcroppings and at one point dutifully followed the instructions to escape our field by using two stiles – when one gate would have done just as wll. (No wonder Stiles won this day.) I was explaining to Gavan, as we walked, how I had come to be the next chairman of the English Department of the American School in London, but on this trip I didn’t have the exhaustive list of topics I usually develop as a way of cheering us up on long stretches of the march. Gavan was dying to talk about Gavan but he deferred this until the evening.
Gavan at Dallam Tower
We then followed a road past a caravan site and escaped using a stile into another lane opposite the pele tower at Hazelslack. Here we encountered two locals out with their dogs. They seemed to believe that we were total incompetents, even with our guidebook, and they quizzed us closely on our route, dispensing advice – which we completely ignored. By the time the lecture was over cows had gathered on the opposite side of a farm fence to have a look at their dogs.
We entered the Hazelslack farmyard, climbed over a wall and walked over a field to another lane. In the next field, enclosed on several sides by forest, we encountered a large flock of grouse – in hiding since the Glorious 12th two days earlier. After passing through some woods we reached a road and climbed uphill, finding a roadside bench for a rest. It was a quite pleasant afternoon, sunny but not too warm. After more road walking we turned off on a track which provided wonderful views of the northern landscape as the road followed its level way to the hamlet of Haverbrack. About half way there we met a large party of geriatric nature walkers – being instructed in local fauna and flora. We edged past them, but they remained close behind as we climbed into the grounds of Dallam Tower and headed off downhill in park-like surroundings. After entering an even larger extent of parkland we finally escaped the parade behind us. Gavan found the right line over the undulating ground as we headed north, soon obtaining views of the stately home on our left and the antlers of a large herd of deer directly before us. We walked gingerly forward with our cameras at the ready – but the shy animals moved off at our approach.
Church and bus shelter, Milnthorpe
The way was now clear to descend to the bridge over the River Bela, where some lads were mending a bicycle tire. It was only 5:00 so I suggested that before continuing on to our b&b we detour into the town and scout out likely locations for our evening meal. We passed several pubs, a Chinese takeaway and had a look at the town church. While I sat on a bench Gavan sidled off to have a look at the Roman Catholic church as well. Then we retraced our route west, almost to the bridge, and used some farm tracks in worsening conditions to head north uphill, fighting the undergrowth until we had entered our last field. Views in every direction were a delight as we descended to the A6. Here I began to look for Eildon, the home of Mrs. Rosemary Dale, and we found it only a few doors down the hill. It was 6:00.
We were shown to our room and I used the en suite shower while Gavan used the bathtub in an adjacent room. Then we put on our end-of-day clean clothes and headed down the A6 to Milnthorpe village – where we went into the Cross Keys Hotel to have some beer and order dinner. For the first but not the last on this trip, my choice, limited by my short-lived desire to avoid meat, fell on cod and chips. Gavan was now able to launch into his latest adventures, a confusing tale that began with an experience of personal euphoria during a recent visit to a concentration camp – and ended up with my young friend at confession in St. Peters – determined to join the priesthood. I had very little to say in response, though I do recall disdaining an opportunity of reading a copy of Cardinal Newman’s “Lead Kindly Light” – which Gavan urged on me after I had nipped across the corner to call Dorothy.
Gavan and I finished our Antonio y Cleopatra cigars and retuned in the chilly dark of the night to our b&b. Mrs. Dale had gone to an evening church service and jad forgotten to leave on any lights, but I had a key and we stumbled around in the dark for a while before finding a light switch. Fortunately Gavan was talked out for once – and I was able to get to sleep pretty rapidly.
To continue with the next stage our walk you need: