- BECAUSE THEY'RE THERE is about climbing mountains – nothing else. Well, actually, there are one or two other things. But it's mostly about climbing mountains. And fish and chips. And politics. And doing a bit of fell running. And wondering where the hell your life's gone – and where it might be going next. And cooking kippers in a wet tent. And people you bump into who do similar things. Actually, that last one doesn't happen very often . . .
Top Posts & Pages
- Sutton Bank, Witches and Featherless Geese
- Forever Changing – Broad Majestic Duddon
- London 5: Butchers, Saints and Sinners
- London 4: William Morris and a Wander Through Walthamstow
- London 3: A Cold Wet Walk for Pie and Mash
- I Must Go Down to South Gare Again . . .
- Only a Rosedale, I give you . . .
- Mud: It’s Alive and Sticking
- A Blackpowder Blast From the Past
- Day Return to Bloworth Crossing . . . and Beyond
- Stanwick Camp – A Thorn in the Foot
- Circling the Wagons Beneath High Noon Hill
- Climbing Cielo – as Swallows Come Back to Capistrano
- In the Realms of Glory on Cerro del Trevenque
- Hambleton Hills – A Walk and a Sonnet
CAPE WRATH TRAIL
Copyright© Alen McFadzean and Because They're There, 2009-2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alen McFadzean and Because They're There with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Tag Archives: The Lakes
A walk along the shifting sands of the Duddon estuary . . . Continue reading
A WIND to slice ears off whips across the entrance to Walthamstow Central tube station. The temperature is below zero degrees Centigrade and snow settles behind chimney stacks on bleak roofs. This is London at Easter. There are no bunnies … Continue reading
WORDSWORTH penned 34 sonnets either celebrating or related to the River Duddon – according to the contents pages of my Wordsworth’s Poetical Works Volume V. I had intended to include a few verses here to introduce this piece, but having … Continue reading
NEAR the summit of Causey Pike, where the heathery track gives way to steep rock, an elderly man sits on a boulder. He’s wearing a wide-brimmed hat and his white hair wisps about his ears. I get the impression he’s … Continue reading
I HEAR wild noises and glance into the sky as a skein of geese passes over the garden. So I light a fire in front of the shed and prepare to move my sheep to winter pastures . . .
A walk along the boggy border between Scotland and England . . . Continue reading
LUCERO is a prominent pyramid of baked rock that looks ten times more a mountain than nearly everything twice, three times and four times its size. The approaches from the south are long and incredibly steep. From the north, though, … Continue reading
I LIKE Beinn Dearg. It’s a mountain with character way out in the backcountry. And I like the sound it makes when people pronounce its name correctly. It’s like the call of a bird or the noise of a rock … Continue reading
THE last person to leave Mardale feet first for Shap was John Holme, in June 1736. Poor old John was as dead as they come. Whether he was strapped to a packhorse or nailed in a coffin and carried on … Continue reading