Ford 2
It was a lovely sunny day, today, and perfect for our mission to go up to the ford just north of Nether Hall. We took the same route as last week as far as Low Beckfoot but then, instead of turning west across the fields to where we crossed previously, we stayed on the road to pick up the bridleway to Treasonfield.
It is a beautiful path (see my first Extra), sometimes wide enough to walk two abreast but occasionally single file. One section runs through the manicured landscape of Kirkby Lonsdale golf club but it's otherwise wild and unspoilt territory.
We came out at the old farmhouse and barn conversions at Treasonfield, where my older daughters lived for a while with their mum. (By coincidence, my friend Tony later lived in the same house.) From here we took the path down to the ford.
Now this was a far more obvious crossing than the one we explored last week: the track obviously goes down and into the water and reappears on the far side. Dan had his shoes and socks off and was making his way across while I was still fiddling with my laces. He stopped halfway to take in the view as you can see from today's photo.
Lord, the water was cold! But it was a little easier on the feet as I made my way across and dropped off my boots and rucksack on the far side. Dan was already wading upstream to see if it was deep enough to swim so I set off back into the water. We reached a point where the water was waist high and both stood, summoning the motion that would take us into the cold water.
There are three previous occasions that I can remember where I've willingly cast myself into cold water, all of which have been with the kids. The first was a family holiday in Cornwall in 2003. We were staying in a tipi on a site based in an old quarry. The actual excavation was filled with water and we would take the kids to swim there every day. And each day I would swim to the far end and back. It was bloody freezing. (And also gave me an odd sense of vertigo when I looked down through my goggles.)
The second occasion was at Saklikent Gorge in Turkey. Despite the roasting weather, the water came out of the gorge like it had come down from the Alps. We promised the kids they could have an ice cream if they could sit in the water - up to their necks - for sixty seconds. It would have been churlish if I hadn't done it, too.
And we repeated that a few years later at Barkin Beck, where the water seemed just as cold although the weather was hardly roasting. The ice creams from the shop in Barbon were very fine, though.
Anyway, back to today. Dan and I took the plunge at the same moment. I thought I was going to beat him to it but as I started to move, he was dropping, too. Well, my legs might have been numb by then but every other part of my body was shocked and it took me a moment to catch my breath before I started swimming towards Dan, hoping that would warm me up.
We stayed in for a few minutes, swimming up and down but it was still rather cold and I think we were both relieved to get out and dry off using the towel from the rucksack, before tucking into a beer and some digestives.
****
-10.0 kgs
Reading: 'Underland' by Robert Macfarlane
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