Quoth the Ravenglass, let's explore

After sleeping in – which I probably needed – and a hearty breakfast, we headed out on our bikes to see some trains. Fidra hadn't been up Whinlatter Pass before and I said to BikerBabe that it was it was one of the easier passes but just as scenic as we powered up through the forest.  From Whinlatter we headed west along a succession of tiny wee Postman Pat roads that were slow but fun, then eventually joined the A-road south, taking in views west to Scotland and later the Isle of Man, with wind farms in the middle distance.

By lunchtime we arrived at the village of Ravenglass, and parked ourselves at the neat little railway terminus of the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway. It reminded us of the equally small but perfectly formed 1/3 scale Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway that we visited back in April.  Our plan had been just to watch the trains, but taking a ride to Dalegarth seemed like a better plan!  While bestie procured tickets, I procured lunches, and shortly thereafter we were onboard in our little carriage compartment and hightailin' it out of Ravenglass at a good 10 or 15 miles an hour.  The journey took about 40 minutes and we snapped away, looking at level crossings and station halts and marvelling at the view to the hills.

At Dalegarth we disembarked, and watched the train crew put our locomotive on the turntable to prepare it for the return run.  The crew oiled the connecting rods and polished the paintwork and brass and made no.9 River Mite look spick and span again.  We had a quick look round the station and then jumped back onboard, this time in an open carriage for better views and to smell the smell of good steam coal!

Once back at Ravenglass we had a little look at the engine workshop with a host of other interesting engines hiding inside, and then fired up our bikes again.  Rather than retrace our steps we invented a route to take us north to Coniston, which we visited last time, and refuelled at a petrol station with an extremely cheery lady at the till.

From Coniston it was very many little roads and a few not very good drivers, and at length we arrived in the pretty town of Ambleside. I hadn't been for very many years, and was pleased to see the little house that is built on a bridge over the river – surely one of the most Lake Districty views ever.  Going north from Ambleside to Keswick was yet another lovely picturesque run on beautiful tarmac.  Finally we arrived into town but alarmed by the heavy grey cloud that was dumping rain right onto the hills where we were going.  We blasted through it with some choice words between our Cardo intercoms, but once back in the trees we were fine, and had mostly escaped a proper drenching.

With Fidra and Biscuit put to bed, a big dinner of pasta in front of a roaring fire was just what the doctor ordered!