4 October 2009--A glorious sunny morning, with no cloud or wind to speak of. Viewed from the town, the
top of the Old Man of Coniston is entirely clear, and it seems to me the perfect day to walk up. Several hundred people
agree with me. The direct trail is quite steep, but well maintained. I pass the ruins of a gondola, the remains of slate
mines (there is one still active), and an alpine tarn, where folks are basking as if on the Riviera. Sort of. At the top,
the view is spectacular in all directions. I share it with the weekending multitude. It's not such a high peak--2600 feet
or so--but I've seen it described as "the twelfth most prominent mountain in England." I can see that there are many good
routes to follow from there, but I'm not really prepared to go gallivanting. Back down the way I came, wishing I might take
a more roundabout and less steep descent. It's about a five hour round trip.
The weekenders have all gone home, and it's a very quiet night in town. I have dinner at the Sun, and find their
wi-fi signal after all. Something screwy with my settings. Threats subsided, but unhappy consequences.