Lisle Ryder Poet Quatrain

To Cauldron Snout - part 1

It was around eleven when we had parked 
to step out on our walk to Cauldron Snout,
At first it was hard to find the waymarks 
weren't easy to spot as we looked about,

until we picked up with the Pennine Way.
Watching us from Widdybank farm
as we strode the well-trodden right of way
were belted Galloway, would they cause harm?
 
Below Cronkley Crag the upper Tees chattered,
keeping us company as we progressed
along Holmwath without any hazard.
Having looked at the map we had guessed

the gradient would only be gentle 
and not take more hours than just a couple.
But ahead a challenge looked monumental
testing whether our joints were supple.

Strewn below Falcon Clints was boulder
upon boulder, sculptured by the weather.
Our aging limbs soon felt even older,
balancing in this clambering endeavour.

We paused by an angler with rod and line;
having just caught a trout he was cheerful.
We let two men pass who'd come up behind,
then onward we struggled ever so careful,

reassuring ourselves that Cauldron Snout 
would be round the next bend – bend after bend, 
boulder on boulder – destiny in doubt.
Beauty was there to which we could attend:

harebells and scabious, cinquefoil and heather,
mountain pansies among many a bloom;
a duck and a dipper, and what was that feather?
Distractions delighting though none with perfume.

Eventually the Snout came into view;
an impressive cascade tumbling from high,
all the noisier the nearer we drew.
After more than three hours the time was nigh

to stop for sandwiches and fruit with a drink,
to rest weary limbs and blistering feet.
Pondering our return we began to think
tackling more boulders would be a risky feat.

Perusing the map we reckoned the road 
from the dam though longer seemed safer.
The steep rocky ascent was quite exposed.
Refreshed for the climb we coped with its labour

By the reservoir with water level low
we trudged upon tarmac enjoying the view
across to Cross Fell. With five miles to go
on a gentle descent a niggling grew

of threatening cramp in each of my thighs.
With fluids all drunk thirst was increasing
so with much relief we saw with our eyes
the Langdon Beck Hotel seemed to us pleasing.

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