No Limits

We’re back from our Lakeland adventures, achey limbs, life lessons and all!

When we booked our campsite, we realised that it was right at the foot of Scafell Pike – also know as the highest mountain in England.  Immediately upon gaining this knowledge, our 7 year olds announced that they wanted to climb it.  ‘OK!’ said Ben.  ‘OK…’ said I.

Now, I knew I was going to find climbing that ole hill really hard – this is me at the top of the much smaller Wansfell Pike last year, after all:

So, I kept warning the kids – “It’s a whole day of climbing, you know.  The weather might be terrible.  It’s bigger than anything you’ve done before.  I’m not sure you realise how hard it could be…”  Thankfully, they largely ignored me.  I am just their mum, after all.

The first day of our stay had the best weather, so we decided to go for it – eat the frog, as Mark Twain says.  (Which basically means do the hardest thing on your plate first, then everything else will be easy by comparison.)  We took a strange and wandering route up, around Burnmoor Tarn, meeting up with a lovely family of fellow (although much more experienced) walkers on the way.  We went up Scarfell first, then down to Foxes Tarn, over Mickledore Ridge and then up to Scafell Pike – which as you can tell, meant climbing down for a bit, then back up.  I was not totally impressed by this development. 

I think you know by now that we made it to the top – and in truth, that’s not a huge surprise.  I thought I would find it difficult, and that I would moan at Ben, and that my legs and lungs would hurt, but I kind of knew we’d get there.  I was right on all counts. I couldn’t imagine getting halfway and then going back, though.  But what did surprise me was how easily the kids did it.  The fun of meeting new friends certainly helped, as did frequent snack stops, but I honestly didn’t hear a single ‘I’m tired’ or ‘my feet hurt’ until we were on the way back down.  Of course, this could have been because I was so far behind them, but I don’t think so.  I genuinely expected to have to coax them up the last part, but turns out that was just me.

I’m so proud of them, and I’ve also realised something – my kids can do more than I think they can.  I already knew they could do things that I can’t (back bends, belly rolls and really quick mental maths, for instance), but now I know they are tougher than I thought, too.  They walked through marshes and bogs (sort of fell through the bogs, actually), scrambled down ghylls and up scree slopes, and walked for 8 hours, laughing and talking all the way.  They don’t need my limitations put on them.

For that matter, neither do I.

Back to furniture next week – Gplan, Ercol, Greaves & Thomas! 😉

H xx

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