Alcock Tarn and Grey Crag

‘A dreary sheet of water named Alcock Tarn.’

Apparently Alfred Wainwright was rather disparaging of Alcock Tarn, nestled below Butter Crag east of Grasmere. Personally I enjoyed my swim in this peaceful small tarn. The views from Grey Crag were a bonus!

Sign to Alcock Tarn

Alcock Tarn

We managed to find a lay-by with free parking alongside the A591, and took the path behind the Swan Hotel, following signs for Alcock Tarn. The walk, though steep in parts was very picturesque. We followed a babbling Greenhead Ghyll and had luscious views of Helm Crag and Grasmere as we quickly gained height. The whole walk was beautiful, possibly attributed to the blissful weather we were lucky to have. The whole walk was a positive experience for me.

Greenhead Gill

Selfie

It took about an hour to get to the shores of Alcock Tarn, previously called Butter Crag Tarn. In the 1800’s Mr Alcock of Grasmere had enlarged the tarn to stock with trout! There were lots of minnows in the shallows when we set up camp.

Our arrival was welcomed by two female mallards who quickly made a beeline for us. Both came onto land and one, searching for food pecked at my toes as I got undressed. The ducks were so cute, one even sat next to David whilst I took to the waters.

Alcock Tarn female mallards

Swimming at Alcock Tarn

The swim itself was divine. I entered the water when there was no other walkers about and had the tarn to myself, David and the two ducks. I thoroughly enjoyed the 8° waters and wish I could have stayed in longer. The wind was not as cutting as it was at Scales Tarn, Blencathra. Even though I swam through reeds they were manageable. Pipits called from the hills and peacefulness pervaded. I was in the water for about 15 minutes before I started to feel cold.

We picnicked on shore, sharing our lunch with the ducks while I warmed up. I could have stayed there all day.

David wanted to explore the area and so we ended up walking towards Grey Crag overlooking a resplendent Grasmere with Windermere glistening in the distance. I was drunk on the colour green! The whole countryside looked vibrant in the noontime sunshine.

Sadly it was time we retraced our steps back towards the car. The whole day was wonderful. It was the best swim/walk of the weekend. Perhaps this was due to having no expectations?

Have you visited Alcock Tarn? What are your favourite walks around Grasmere?

Thanks for reading,

Christine x

 

Tarn of the Immortal Fish

Bowscale Tarn was the clear winner of my public vote on where my first swim of 2017 should be. Despite that accolade finally going to Crummock Water, I decided Bowscale would be my second!

As featured in William Wordsworth’s 1888, Song, at the Feast of Brougham Castle. Folklore states that Bowscale Tarn is home to two immortal fish, one with the gift of speech. With the weather forecasting sunshine and temperatures reaching the late 20°C’s, there was nothing else for it but to go in search of these immortal fish!

We got to the hamlet of Bowscale at 9.30am after a two hour drive up the M6 to Penrith and then the A66 to Mungrisedale. As we seem to be visiting the area a lot recently, we didn’t even need the help of the SatNav!

There are only a few cottages in Bowscale and it was by these cottages that we parked the car, parking was free! As the road bends right, there is a public bridleway sign pointing towards the tarn. The path was established by the Victorians who would flock to Bowscale Tarn much more than people do now. The path was very quiet and we only saw one other person with his two dogs.

The walk to the tarn took one hour. The pathway was well defined, gravelly underfoot but there was no worry of getting lost! The sun was blazing hot, even at 10am! The sparkling blue of Bowscale Tarn appeared like a mirage, it was a welcome sight!

Bowscale Tarn

Bowscale Tarn

A good few hours was spent at Bowscale, picnicking and sunbathing, before sliding my sun kissed body into the cool waters of the tarn. I found the shallows to be very muddy and my feet easily got sucked down into the vegetation. It was a feeling I did not like!

Occasionally a mean wind wiped over the tarn and the water glistened like there were a myriad of tiny stars dancing on the surface. The silence of the place was only broken by the chatter of pipits nesting in the heath-land.

And of the immortal fish? I never seen head nor tail of them, other than wrestling with a rubber trout I had brought along for the fun of being silly!

Have you visited Bowscale Tarn? Been lucky enough to see the immortal fish? I’d love to hear of your stories attached to this place.

Thanks for reading,

Christine x