Stickle Ghyll

Some people can be scathing of these pitched paths but this one is a tremendous piece of work. It's a tough job - so much consideration for the walker, the step, the pitch and camber, all those feet and knees climbing and descending from first lakeland climbs to seasoned hill walkers and final journeys, a path like this one sees it all. And the care that goes in to considering the environment, the run off, the stone and the protection of the surrounding vegetation.

When I was doing some pitching an American walking group passed and a chap with a deep south US accent asked me what I had done. He thought we were a chain gang - it reminded me of that early scene in O Brother, where are thou?

Stickle Ghyll

This perfect pitched path
A metaphor for life, each
stone stepping onwards

There will be no views
The way ahead is obscured
Cloud cover complete

Mist funnels up from
Below. The way back is lost
One step at a time.

The stone sobs for its
past volcanic life, fire and
metamorphic merge

Now perfect camber
And the tears slip silently
To raging torrent

Winander awaits
The vast lake absorbing all
Stickle Ghyll sadness.