I had my plan.
“Richard,” I said to my son, “how do you fancy cycling from Brockhole to Bowness as a sort of a Lake District tour?
Brockhole was the Lake District National Park’s Visitor Centre, while Bowness-on-Windermere was probably the busiest tourist spot in Lakeland. From one to the other was about three miles.
I was going to take a detour, of course. I just hadn’t mentioned that yet.
Our journey would be via every lake in the Lake District and over every mountain pass: Ullswater and the Kirkstone Pass; Derwentwater and Honister Pass; Wastwater and Hardknott Pass – and a good few more.
We would visit the towns of Lakeland – Ambleside, Windermere and Keswick, plus the ‘gateways’ to the Lake District – Kendal, Penrith and Cockermouth.
There would be Grasmere for poets; Beatrix Potter’s Hill Top and Arthur Ransome’s Wild Cat Island for the young in us; Langdale and Wasdale for climbers; Hardknott Roman Fort and Cartmel Priory for historians; pubs, tea shops and Cumberland Sausage for, well, me.
We would cycle to the farthest North, South, East and West points in the National Park, well beyond the tourist trail.
We would hunt for red deer and red squirrels, golden eagles and wild ponies, ospreys and ravens, and there was an excellent chance we’d miss every single one of them. (Nature has a bit of a way of eluding me – unless you count Cumberland Sausage and Coniston Bluebird Bitter as Nature. I can usually find them.)
It would be a cycling challenge, a chance to learn about Lakeland, and an excuse to visit one of the most beautiful places in the world.
“Brockhole to Bowness? Is that it? That’s about quarter of an hour on a bike.”
“Well, maybe a little more. I thought we’d go the long way round.”
“Sounds good.”
“OK. When do you have nine days free?”