The dashboard (that seems an old fashioned term?) of the current motorcycle has two choices for display on the left: the temperature of the air, or the temperature of the bike itself, both of which seem polar opposites just now. Fire and ice. Clear blue and not a breath, and selecting the latter to display, a bike and I headed out of Ulverston bound for the northern lakes with a half-full petrol gauge, a green ABS light, and a two with a dash before it followed by a capital C.
Through Penny Bridge and Water Yeat, on to Coniston and then Ambleside passing a frozen Yew Tree Tarn, and all with only two minor incidents. Firstly, a patch of ice after the wee Grasmere roundabout, causing the bike to skate a little, and its rider to widen his eyes and inhale rapidly as he was staring at the lake and not the road (pfft); secondly, a stubborn sheep in middle of the left hand lane by the Wythburn Church at Thirlmere - sudden brakage and again, wide eyes.
The objective was street photography in Keswick during market day, and having parked in the usual corner of Bell Close, the first stop was the Little Chamonix Cafe on Lake Road for a Mocha, warm up, and to load the camera with battery and cards while wondering what had happened to my right little toe and knee caps, all of which went numb shortly after leaving Ulverston.
The market can be a real assault course I'd learnt, with folk moving at vastly different speeds depending on their intent, coupled with a huge array of canines of different sizes and attitudes, complete with leads that may require hurdling while trying to avoid the latest Silver Cross twin special, barging its way through.
Folk are fascinating. Some images from the market traverse...
A short walk through the gardens brings an arrival to the lake shore at Crow Park, and the vista of the the Derwent Fells and Newlands Horseshoe, and back over Keswick to Skiddaw.
Spent the night at Keswick Park Hotel having relocated the bike to its carpark and applied the necessary frost proofing layer. The following morning strolled down to Friar's Crag and Strandshag Bay before the sun got up, and was rewarded with one the most pristine and glorious dawns I've witnessed in my time here, and one that found fellow photographers dotted along the lakeside like fishermen in a competition. We all got to catch something, in our own styles.
After a second perusal of the town, now hosting a Christmas market, a return to Ulverston was undertaken, stopping briefly beside a mirrored Coniston Water