7/8 Ambleside > Carlisle 46 miles

I turned over, from my back to my side, which was unusual.  This past week I have been sleeping like a rock--similar to when I was in Jamaica.  When you hit the pillow utterly exhausted you just crash.  I think my average time from pillow-meets-head to sound asleep is about 45 seconds.  And I haven't yet woken in the night.  But last night I tossed - maybe once or twice.  I likely remember it because the top bunk I was on had a spring/wire bottom and made that familiar squeaky top bunk bed sound from my childhood.  The same sound I remember from my days at BYU when the apartment below us happened to be a married couple.  But as I tossed I heard rain hitting the metal roof of the Ambleside Backpackers Inn and I was grateful to be sleeping indoors.  I love camping, but not in the rain.  To me, camping in the rain is like a soggy grape - it had potential, but just didn't work out.  And then after the wet camp you spend the next 24 hours just trying to dry stuff out.

We hung out in the hostel longer than any other morning, not getting on the road until around 11am.  With a steady Northern England drizzle Katy and I tried a time honored cycling trick - put a plastic bag between your sock and shoe.  Keep the rain out.  Prevent your feet from getting all pruney.  As we loaded the bike, Katy seemed to be taking FOREVER.  I am an inpatient person as it is, but for the next 9 months I have to wait for her to be ready so I can be ready.  She couldn't quite figure out how to tie our leftovers to the rear of our bike.  Upon the rear rack sits a dry bag with our camping bag, attached by just two bungee cords (tools of the future - if you ask me).  And fiddle as she might, she just couldn't get it all sorted out (along with my helmet, a lock, some shoes and etc.)  And by about 20 minutes later of fiddling, the rain stopped.  I guess our weaknesses can sometimes become our strengths.

After the first 90 minutes on the road, we summited our climb of the day and saw an Ice Cream truck next to a trailhead to the last lake in the Lake District - Lake Thirlmere.  Perfect - swimming for me and ice cream for Katy.  What more could the Pratt's ask for?  I've always  been a fan of mountain lakes.  I like them cold, pristine and all to myself.  This one fit the bill nicely.  Then I saw the first sign (seen below).  It said don't swim - too cold.  Ha, I thought.  I grew up swimming in Cecret Lake in Albion Basin, UT where I could usually get $5-$20 out of my mother if I told here I thought it was too cold.  To be honest, aside from $10 for an A at the end of every quarter at Oakridge Elementary it was my only real steady income.  So, I brushed off the sign and headed to the lake.  Then, another sign.  "People may die, strong undercurrents, dangerous blue-green algae (which almost deterred me) but I forged ahead.  In fact, when told not to do something I usually find greater resolve to accomplish the restricted activity.  This is something I've always known about myself, but it was Claudia, our marriage counselor, who really hit the nail on the head.  She informed me that somewhere in my childhood, likely around 13 or 14 years of age, part of my social/response to authority development got fixated.  And since then, I have an intrinsic desire to go against social and established norms. (You're probably saying to yourself - you paid a counselor to tell you that, I could have told you that).  All this, needless to say, when I saw those signs I knew I was getting in.  I approached the lake's edge carefully, and much to my delight, not too cold.  Warmer than Bear and Cecret Lake.  I jumped in and instant refreshment.  Then after I had gotten out, standing on a nice rock with the warm sun on me.  No better feeling in the world: fresh out of a cold lake with a warm sunshine on your face.

Tonight in a hostel in Carlisle, England.  A castle here sits on Hadrian's Wall - built in the 2nd century AD by the Romans as a boundary of the northern expanse of their kingdom.

Expenses: £30 Hostel, £8.70 Doner Kebab (large), £7 Lunch stuffs

The rig.

My new day job.

No swimming, but this is a lake? 

Oh, now I have to go.

Done.

Lunch: leftover pie, Mars Bar rice krispie cookie treat and peanut butter and bananas on a roll.