I used to live in the Lake District....
....Nether Wasdale to be precise.

I was only 15 at the time, so of course I was living with my parents. I'm an odd sort though, I like the countryside, the quiet, the views, the pace. I love it all, I'm an old man before my time. Anyway, I digress.

So, let me set the scene. Nether Wasdale is a tiny hamlet of a place, two pubs and a disproportionate 15 or so houses. That's it though, the nearest whiff of civilisation was Gosforth, some 6 miles away (and even then it wasn't much bigger than Nether).

It was a Saturday night and my folks had gone to the pub, leaving me, the three cats and my Jack Russell alone in the house to watch TV, eat crap food and steal my Step dads beer, 15 year-old heaven. Until the storm came.

I like a storm, but not like this. The house backed on to the woods, so with each terrifying clap of thunder and flash of lightening my imaginative 15 year old eyes were seeing terrifying, horrible things which weren't even there. There were faces, shapes, movements in the shadows. I was tense, but not afraid. I decided to grab my dog by force and make him sit on the couch with me and watch TV, he was a Jack Russell after all so his potential levels of protection were immense. Well, we didn't have a proper dog, so he'd have to do.

Then it happened. The lightening struck (we later assumed) the copper church bell behind our house. Everything went out, no lights at all. And let me tell you, in the Lakes there is no residual sulpher burn in the sky, there are no streetlights, no nothing, just darkness. Can't see your hand in front of your face darkness at that.

Drunk on stolen beer, and squeezing my dog to within an inch of his life I sat, huddled on the couch, cowering at every flash of lightening. Near hysteria had set in by this point. I have no idea why, I like storms, but all the contributing factors to this one just made all too much to take.

I decided to make a bold move and find a torch, I'd been on the couch for some time now, and the situation wasn't getting any better. As I could see nothing I crawled across the floor, still somehow clutching my canine, tentatively feeling for obstructions and obstacles. I just had to get to the dresser, I knew there was a torch in there. I reached it, put my hand atop to pull myself up. I clipped the ash-tray though, flipping it over the edge, hitting me in the head and putting me into an ash covered daze. I lay on the floor, reeling in the pain while adopting the fetal position, still clutching a disgruntled dog.

Then the light came on....

When my eyes focused I saw 6 or 7 people stood at the door. It was my mum, step dad and their friends who had opted to come back to ours for a few tipples. They were baffled as to my situation, I explained everything in detail, while still trying to be manly....

....they burst out laughing, the lot of them.

It transpired the power-cut was only for a minute or so. I had been basking in a sole source of illumination prior to the strike of lightning, the TV. So when the power came on the TV went on standby. I assumed that everything had died. I was wrong.

I spent the best part of two hours rolling round in the dark, upsetting my dog because I was too stupid to realise what was going on.

I still get teased about it today, some 11 years on. I'm not afraid of the dark anymore, not unless I'm totally sure that dark is the only option anyway....
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Fri 24 Jul 2009, 10:31, 3 replies)

Nether Wasdale is a beautiful place.
I spent many a happy time there as a child, staying with a friend of my grandparents. He owned a farm just by Tosh Tarn.

I walked through there last year for old time's sake - the farm has now become a guest house, and Hartley died twenty-odd years ago.

Say hello to the place for me next time you're there.
( sm.pl.crt.rs I don't fucking know, do I?, Fri 24 Jul 2009, 10:49, closed)

Small world...
...I've not been back since I was a teen. I will go back though, loved it up there. Plus, I dine out on telling folk that "It's the deepest lake in the Lake District"...not that anyone ever wants to know.
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Fri 24 Jul 2009, 10:55, closed)

:)
The deepest lake, and also home to the Lady of The Lake, perfectly preserved in the anoxic conditions at the bottom. A grisly murder story and one to dine out on!
( sm.pl.crt.rs I don't fucking know, do I?, Fri 24 Jul 2009, 20:08, closed)