A stark and starry night near the lakes
It’s midnight and it’s freezing – literally freezing. The bedroom is minus 1 degrees Celsius.
This isn’t quite the bothy experience I’d expected. My sleeping bag claims to cope with temperatures as low as minus 15C. But it doesn’t. Why is it so cold? The room is an icebox.
Staring at the cobwebbed ceiling of Mosedale Cottage Bothy, near Haweswater in the northeast Lake District, the temperature dips further still. I’m by myself; no other bothy dwellers that night.
Then the penny drops. It’s all my fault: I’d forgotten to pack a camping mat. You need a camping mat for a sleeping bag to work properly. Of course you need a camping mat! That’s why my hips are hurting so much too, cutting into the hardboard bed.
So goes the penultimate night of a month-long ramble from Penrith and back via great swathes of one of Britain’s most popular tourist destinations; all alone and shivering in a bothy.
Ullswater, Keswick, Cockermouth, Coniston: I had seen them all, along with Ambleside, Bowness, Cartmel, Grasmere and many places in between, staying at a succession of cheerful inns, friendly little B&Bs, small rambler-friendly hotels and private rooms at efficiently run hostels.
It had been a dream hike in April travelling in a big wobbly circular route. I had kept mainly to the lowlands, climbing a few peaks that caught my eye: Haystacks, Blencathra, the Old Man of Coniston and Scafell Pike, England’s highest mountain at
978 metres.
My aim had not been to ‘bag’ the famous Alfred Wainwright peaks, as wonderful as that may be. Instead, I was seeing the Lakes in a casual ramble.
It was a long but take-it-easy tour. I was more than 350 miles in, only 30 to go back to Penrith, where I had started, after the night at Mosedale Cottage followed by another in the village of Shap.
Despite my nocturnal difficulties, however, Mosedale Cottage Bothy, in the upper valley of Mosedale Beck, proves one of the trip’s highlights.
It comprises a cluster of quaint whitewashed buildings surrounded by golden grassland and rolling fells; not another structure in sight. A burbling stream provides fresh drinking water, and a little yard includes a spot for barbecues.
Bedrooms may be basic, but they are clean and tidy (fine for those properly prepared). A sparse yet functional living room comes with chairs and a table with Lake District books and leftbehind tea candles.
Then there’s a fireplace-cumstove. This would be great if you could light it. But there was no fuel when I arrived. This had meant the evening had been chilly, even before the sleeping bag debacle. You were meant, it seemed, to bring your own fuel. Of course you were meant to bring your own fuel!
Had I done so, it would have been toasty and perfect, not that I had particularly minded with an engrossing book to read by candlelight – and a good bottle of red wine. I may not have taken a camping mat or fuel, but I had not forgotten the wine.
Previous visitors had cooked delicious-sounding fish stews and Lancashire hotpots. I knew this, as these gourmet evenings were described in a mouldy old guestbook. Other entries told of knees-ups with songs being sung into the early hours beside the glowing grate. Many a party had taken place at Mosedale Cottage
over the years.
Mosedale is overseen by the Mountain Bothies Association. In the Lake District, there are a mere five bothies (bothies really being a more common Scottish phenomenon). Mosedale is among the most popular, with room for about 20 people.
You need not book in advance. You just turn up. It can be busy or it can be completely empty, as when I went. You never quite know.
Done properly, bothies in the Lakes are clearly a treat, plus a great way to keep down costs. But they are not the only way. Combined with staying mainly at hostels and limiting overnights at inns and hotels to weekdays when prices are lower – as I did – it is
possible to become a happily frugal long-distance hiker in the Lakes, without resorting to camping.
Pitching tents would, admittedly, be a lot cheaper. But that’s a whole different form of travel, with a much heavier backpack.
Another way of preserving cash, I found, was always to pack picnic lunches. Save money by day, then by night, if you’re not staying in a remote bothy, live it up in the Lake District’s plethora of good value pubs, restaurants and fish and chip shops.
Yet the cheapest of all nights – in the bothy – proves the most memorable of my month-long trip. And it isn’t just because of the mishaps.
The tremendous sense of isolation out on the empty fells is both inspiring and haunting: the resounding silence so far from any roads (save for the odd noisy sheep); the constellations twinkling in the jet-black sky (no light pollution); the slow lazy rise of a gorgeous red dawn.
No tourist hordes, of course: this isn’t Bowness or Ambleside. No tourists at all. Just remember to take a camping mat and some fuel… and you can stay in a bothy without any bother at all.
How to plan your trip
For further information, visit mountainbothies.org.uk and visitcumbria.com.
W Lost In The Lakes: Notes from a 379-Mile Hike Around t he Lake District by Tom Chesshyre is published by Summersdale.