Coniston Copper Mine

“You can, you should, and if you are brave enough to start you will” – Stephen King

Normally my life’s diary is packed with work, being a carer, horses, motor racing, family and friends. Everything slots into place with not much room for sitting still. I like it this way for the most part, I like the challenge of getting it all done, feeling accomplished and satisfied at the end of the day if I have managed to tick everything off the list. At the beginning of last year I decided to plan a solo trip, destination Scotland, travelling up the west coast to Glencoe and returning back home down the East side of the UK over 9 days. I loved spending time planning my route, finding interesting destinations and little gems to fill my time.

The first leg of my road trip in September of 2023 took me up the M6 to the Lake District. Boy that is an arduous road to travel! I had to remind myself that for a change there was no rush, I didn’t have a schedule or a time and a place to be. It took a while to relax and accept this new state of mind. Struggling to leave behind what I am usually responsible for and allow myself to be free from the compartmental nature of my life. Finally, the lengthy black gorge of tarmac gave way to less intrusive A roads, with hints of rural Cumbria slowly revealing themselves like clues to find my way out of an escape room. Dry stone walls embellished the rising hills like stitching on a patch work quilt of every shade of green and brown there ever was. Dotted with white sheep who trekked each bulge and dip, the knees and elbows that pushed up from under the fabric of this lake district blanket.

I arrived in Coniston late afternoon, settled into the B&B and found something to eat for dinner in the small town. When I returned, I happened to pass the host in the hallway and mentioned I was looking for somewhere unusual to take a hike, he suggested the Coniston Copper mine leading up to Levers Water. He gave me a map and I took a look before bed. The next morning after my cooked breakfast I headed back to the town and parked up on a narrow lane which led to the Copper Mine. There was hardly any parking on this road, it was tight with no turning room. In hindsight I should have used the pay and display parking about 600metres away in the center of Coniston.

I looked at the continuation of the road ahead of me, I’ll be honest, it scared me a little. I knew there was around 6km of walking to go and thought, if this is how steep it all is, I am going to struggle. There was a couple coming up behind me as a started on my way, adorned with all the attire a hiker should have, with 3 dogs faithfully in tow. They quickly passed me by, I said hello to the dogs and made a comment to the couple about hoping it wasn’t this hard work all the way to the reservoir. They revealed themselves as regular walkers of this well-trodden path and confirmed that yes, it probably was much like this, except for a few plateau’s early on that gave some relief. I had to make the decision to either turn back or keep on putting one foot in front of the other.

The Copper mine was fairly interesting, a few pieces of original equipment on display showing the workings of the mine when it was fully operational. I learnt that this was also a wedding venue, I didn’t expect that! Wedding guests were beginning to arrive and having had some respite from the initial climb I decided to continue on the stoney track which followed the contours of these manmade ranges. Carved into the original landscape, the slopes were paved with loose but large, pebble shaped stones. With the pressure of each step taken to haul my leading leg another foot forward these giant pebbles gave way, slipping backwards. It felt like climbing up an escalator the wrong way, always fighting against the tide of receding rocks. There were also sizeable blocks of stone which acted like markers, my legs were exhausted and my lungs felt like they were on fire. Dry mouthed, I kept on treading forward using these as motivation just to keep going until reaching the next one, and the next, and the next...

Levers water did not disappoint. There were other people there too, sharing the beauty of this place. A huge pool of reflective elixir, with seemingly magical powers bringing a feeling of peace over me. I sat on the ledge, feet dangling and listened to the water lapping gently at the steppingstones that were scattered around the circumference of this receptacle. I felt satisfyingly detached from reality and spent some time just being.

The descent was just as spectacular, although it didn’t seem nearly as steep as it was on the way up. The terrain underfoot was much more natural, the path had clearly been made easier for the human footprint, this edge of an undisturbed part of the mine had been spared the fate which wounded the other side of the valley. I came by a rushing waterfall to my right and as I rounded the curve to the left the panoramic view unveiled the entirety of the path I had travelled. I felt accomplished, strong and proud. I had completed a challenge I first thought would be impossible. What was next on the list, what else could I achieve with a little bit of willpower and self-belief. I hadn’t yet set an agenda, but I needed to find my next mountain to climb both physically and mentally. I was fully aware that to some people this would have been a walk in the park that happened to be on their doorstep, but to me this was big and the start of something bigger. ‘One man’s molehill is another man’s mountain’. I was motivated and inspired, that night as I rested my weary body at a table in the local pub with a pie and a pint of cider, I was researching what I would come across enroute to Glencoe, what would be my next test? Where in the rugged arena of the Highlands and Islands would be my next summit?