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BB2604 : The
Last Day as a Septuagenarian
Wednesday
4th February 2026
Today
was Tony's last day as a Septuagenarian.
It's a funny word. Sounds like
a member of a secret society with a funny
handshake but, as you will know, it merely
refers to his age. Given that fact,
we allowed him to choose the destination
That is more of a challenge than you
might think as he is not normally aware
of where we are going or indeed where we
have been. The exception, remarkably,
is Kidsty Pike which seems to hold such
a magnetic attraction for him that he can
spot it from anywhere. Anyway, the consequence
was that we had to make the decision for
him with the caveat that lunch must be at
noon and a pub should be reached not long
afterwards. Oh, and it must not exceed
6 miles.
The
problem was that rain was forecast. We
left the car (with permission) at the Tit
'an Tot (my new variation on Stephen's Bird
'an Bastard variation of the Eagle and Child)
and set off along the Staveley high street.
As the rain seemed imminent we popped
into the More, the artisan bakery and cafe
in the Mill Yard, until it was safe to continue
on our way.
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The
logical target was Reston Scar, just beyond
Staveley on the way to Windermere. This
gives the satisfaction of a short but relatively
steep ascent with good views over to the
Lakeland Fells and plenty of options for
the return, depending on appetite for distance
or beer. First, though, we had to
pass the weir which controversially has
been deliberately broken. Will that
exacerbate the risk of flooding lower down
the river?
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The
route we chose was via a track that started
behind the church then joined the normal
steep path up to the summit.
Tony
reckoned he had never been there before
but note my opening paragraph. It
was at least his third visit, the last being
as recent as BB2335.
But then, fading memory is a feature
of old age as I know to my cost. Often
people ask me where we went last week and
I haven't got a clue.
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It
was rather boggy as we crossed over to the
slightly higher peak that isn't named on
the OS map. We had to negotiate a
three logged pontoon that was desperate
to throw us into the mire. The trick
is to walk inbetween them where they touch
rather than, as you might think, on the
tops.
Soon
we reached the steep descent to the River
Sprint and the decision point.
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The
first decision was easy. Lunch on
the bench near Scroggs Bridge..
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The
next decision regarded which
way to return.
The
map on my phone indicated we
had covered 4 miles, which surprised
me.
It
didn't feel that far but
on that basis my planned route
would be approaching 7 or 8
miles.
It
didn't feel right but that is
what the technology was telling
us.
It
made up Tony's mind for him.
He leapt to his feet,
pointed his poles and led the
charge up the Scroggs Farm lane,
calling his troops "To
The Pub".
How
dare we resist?
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Back
in Staveley, the metal railings of the footbridge
were festooned with blue ribbons? Why?
Are they the local equivalent of love
locks? Is there any significance in
them being easily undone?
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Back
at the T&T we spent a hour chatting
about old friends and past achievements;
in particular our epic adventures in the
Alpes-Maritime,
BB0836 : Reet Grand Randonnées.
It
was happy way to spend his last day as a
septuagenarian.
Don,
Wednesday, 4th February 2026
PS:
Later Bryan and I discovered that
his gps and the one on my phone had got
horribly confused when we stopped for coffee
and had added a couple of miles on to the
distance. It probably wouldn't have
affected Tony's decision. He reminds
me of what one of the original BOOTboys,
John S, used to say on reaching the pub:
"This is the part of the walk
at which I excel".
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