A Tall Story

It all really started when I bought my first new car.  Well it wasn’t really a car it was a van, a green mini van.  I had wanted a white one but I also wanted a new car quickly because my old vehicle was definitely on the way out with serious gearbox problems so I took the one they had in stock.  However it turned out that the very unobtrusive colour turned out to be very useful for hideaway camping.

You might not think it possible but it’s quite comfortable for even a tall person like me to stretch out comfortably to sleep in the back of a minivan.  The trick is to push one of the seats forward and put your rucksack into the space underneath the seat to give support for your mattress.  It’s even quite comfortable for two to sleep in there, but this story is not about the passion wagon period.  That comes a bit later.

It was a wonderful experience to be able to enjoy having a car that I did not have to worry from place to place wondering if when I started a new journey whether I would get there without some serious mechanical failures and I made good use of it. 

Ever since my first flatmate Joe got me into canoeing it has always been one of my passions.  Canoeing opens up so many more possibilities on rivers and I lived within ten miles of more than thirty miles of the river Thames and an easy day trip of the whole river.  I was working on a systematic exploration of every channel it was possible to get a canoe down, from Teddington lock to its source, an aim which is not quite complete even now.

This summer evening and weekend exploration of the Thames as all very well but I wanted to try some more remote lakes and rivers. I therefore decided to go on a long weekend exploration of the Lake District.  So with the weather set fair I stocked up the van with my camping kit and mattress and laid in a plentiful supply of drinking water.  Loaded the canoe onto the roof rack and set off.

Nowadays almost everyone who goes camping uses proper camping sites with full hot shower and washing up facilities and I admit that I tend to do this nowadays but I have always been an advocate of proper wild camping and do enjoy parking or putting up a tent in some remote and quiet spot without having lots of people around to enjoy the great outdoors properly.

It was quite late in the day when I arrived at my first planned overnight stop, a little car park right on the edge of Derwentwater.  I had stopped briefly in Keswick to pick up some fish and chips and had finished them off during my drive round the lake.  Fortunately the car park was empty. I parked carefully so that I was hidden from the road as well as possible and with the bonnet facing the lake.  I was tired from the long drive but felt that I must get my first trip in as soon as possible, so I got kitted out and took the canoe off the roof straight away.  Within a few minutes I was in the water and heading for an Island about half a mile away in the middle of the lake.  I had taken the precaution of leaving the interior light in the van on because I expected it to be dark well before I got back.  This little light could be easily seen from quite some distance on the lake but would not be visible from the road to attract National Park wardens who would be sure to point out the NO OVERNIGHT PARKING  sign by the entrance if they spotted me.

The evening light on the lake and its surrounding mountains was truly beautiful.  The water was glassy smooth and there was not a breath of wind.  The only sound was the quiet and regular plop of my paddles as I kept a good steady speed for my first goal.  This island, known as St Herbert’s island is uninhabited and seldom visited but I am sure that thousands of people all over the world know it in detail, that is if they have read the Book “Swallows and Amazons” by Arthur Ransome because it is the perfect model for Wild Cat island and has all the features described in that book, but it is on the wrong lake! This is because the shape and details of the lake described in that story is Windermere and looking at the map will show clearly that although the other islands described exist the critical Wild Cat Island is not there. I soon reached the island as the light faded and was glad to note that I could just make out the tiny glimmer of my light.  I turned north down the lake towards Keswick and made for another Island near the famous Friars Crag.

It was getting very dark by the time I approached this island and the trees were pools of blackness but the skylight and its water reflection make it quite easy to see where you are on the lake even if it there is only starlight available I skirted the coast quite closely as I performed my planned rounding the island before heading back to my camp site.  As I completed my circuit in a gap in the trees I could just make out an area of grass stretching up towards a darkened house.  In the middle of the lawn was a slightly darker blob.  I was now paddling gently and quietly enjoying the silence when suddenly the blob moved and became a large dog that ran towards the water and let out the most blood curdling howling bark.  This sound echoed round the hills for several seconds before it was followed by another and another.  Lights quickly came on in the house. And I thought it was time to beat a hasty retreat and altered course more directly away from the Island and put on full power.

A few seconds later there was the shout. “Bloody trippers at it again, I’ll teach yer!” This was followed by the sound of some running steps and the loud dull bang of a 12 bore shot gun.  This was quickly followed by the splash of pellets in the water around me.  Fortunately none hit me but I was not over worried because at that range it was unlikely that a shotgun pellet would have gone through my jacket or penetrated my skin significantly but it would have stung rather badly.

The single blast seemed to have satisfied the person I had disturbed and I reset my course up the lake towards my camp site.  I could not initially see my light because I was now a couple of miles away and at an oblique angle to the car park beach but I knew that I would be able to see it as I approached.  I settled back to my steady cruising speed and resumed my enjoyment of the quiet calm valley and lake with the summer stars overhead.  All too soon I spotted my light about half a mile away and altered course to make for it nicely warmed up and pleasantly fatigued to ensure that I would sleep quickly and well once I was ashore. In my mind I was planning my morning trip.  I would pack up a picnic and make for the river where it enters the lake and explore it up as far as I could possibly get with my canoe. I would follow my usual policy of going up small and diminishing rivers by giving up and turning back when I had portaged past three rapids that were too shallow to canoe either up or down stream.  This would also keep me well away from the Island that I had visited that night!

Some background notes

This story was written to fit the title  it is a fact into fiction story.  Most of the story is true although it is based on two separate incidents the evening canoe trip and a midnight hike where my brother in law and I encountered the dog with the blood curdling howling bark.  The man coming out of the house and the shotgun blast are fictional but express quite well our reaction to the bark!

A short story written by Ian Kimber