At Whinlatter in the Lake District, waymarked trails lead you through a real-life fairy story
M y two little girls read about forests in their storybooks. We go walking and play at Goldilocks. But we're not exactly living off-grid in urban Chester and, while we enjoy days out in the forest, we know little about the woodland ecosystem. Let's just say that Bear Grylls is not exactly watching his back yet for the Atkinson clan.
That's why, with school holidays kicking in, Maya (seven), Olivia (three) and I have come to Whinlatter Forest in the Lake District, which has healthy communities of red squirrels, roe deer and nesting ospreys, for a back-to-nature weekend of forest trails, Lakeland views and heaps of fresh air.
Whinlatter, England's only true mountain forest, opened a group of family-friendly trails a few years ago to introduce children to basic navigational skills, giving them an opportunity to learn about the forest and the animals that live in it. By looking for clues or collecting answers along the trails, even very young children can interact with their environment and find their own way from one interpretation panel to another.
On a sunny day in July, we opt for the Squirrel Scurry trail, a moderate, one-mile hike around eight interpretation points. The girls have to read the panels and answer questions along the way, writing their answers on the trail map to win a squirrel badge. The route is suitable for easily tired toddler legs, as well as being accessible by buggy.
Adrian Jones, the Forestry Commission's recreation manager at Whinlatter, meets us at the visitor centre for a crash course in map-reading and compass points. "I feel free in the forest," he says, leading us towards a trailhead marker showing a carved red squirrel. "I started going to the woods with my father and grandfather – that's how I became hooked."
As we delve into the deep, dark coniferous forest, Olivia decides we're going on a bear hunt. After all, we are walking through a shaded woodland glade straight out of a story by Anthony Browne or Michael Rosen. "We can't go over it. We can't go under it," she sings. "We've got to go through it."
Maya, meanwhile, is taking charge of directions, folding out the map and scouring the horizon for waymarking posts as we head north. "This way," she says. "Follow me."
The woodland copse feels deliciously cool, away from the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. We savour this sensory forest feast, with pine cones crunching under foot, birdlife in the trees and wafts of wildflowers drifting by tantalisingly on the summer breeze. As we climb towards panel three, a viewpoint known as the Comb, the full panorama opens out before us. From our vantage point some 300m above sea level, we gaze out across Keswick and Derwentwater below us, and Helvellyn to the south.
Maya locates the panel and makes light work of the questions while Olivia busies herself collecting daisies and buttercups from beside the scrunchy, gravelly trail. By the time we move on, we've all learned that grey squirrels were brought to England from America in the 1870s and that baby squirrels are called kittens.
We head towards an intersection of walking and mountain-biking trails, where Tarbarrell Moss, one of the more remote sections of Whinlatter, leads deeper into the forest. Maya decides we need to turn left, dropping down through western red cedars, to duck under a squirrel rope bridge between the treetops.
She confidently leads the way, map in hand, along the final stretch. Even Olivia is finding her bearings as I carry her for a higher-level view of forest life, attempting to point out species of trees along the way and revealing my decidedly patchy knowledge in the process. Memo to self: download the Forestry Commission's ForestXplorer app before the next trip.
By this point I'm ready for a slap-up dinner and a pint of Jennings Cocker Hoop, but the girls have other ideas. After a round of ice-creams at Siskins cafe next to the visitor centre, we head back to the WildPlay trail, Olivia making a beeline for the Fairy Kingdom section.
We finish the afternoon leaping between toadstools, opening concealed doors in the tree stumps, and playing in a tree house, Olivia having set up an alfresco cafe to sell Maya's foraged ferns, leaves and berries.
Bear Grylls shouldn't start sweating just yet. But, after a weekend of squirrel trails and fairy dust at Whinlatter, we've come to appreciate the fragile beauty of the forest and the time we spend together exploring it.
*A break in the Lakes*
Whinlatter Forest offers a plethora of attractions, including miles of walking trails with stunning views across Bassenthwaite Lake, Derwentwater and Keswick, plus the longest purpose-built mountain-bike trails in the Lake District.
David Atkinson and family stayed at Packhorse Cottage in Low Lorton, three miles from Whinlatter; bookings via neighbouring Winder Hall. Formerly an inn for packhorse drivers crossing Whinlatter Pass, it is now converted into self-catering accommodation and sleeps five.
golakes.co.uk Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.
M y two little girls read about forests in their storybooks. We go walking and play at Goldilocks. But we're not exactly living off-grid in urban Chester and, while we enjoy days out in the forest, we know little about the woodland ecosystem. Let's just say that Bear Grylls is not exactly watching his back yet for the Atkinson clan.
That's why, with school holidays kicking in, Maya (seven), Olivia (three) and I have come to Whinlatter Forest in the Lake District, which has healthy communities of red squirrels, roe deer and nesting ospreys, for a back-to-nature weekend of forest trails, Lakeland views and heaps of fresh air.
Whinlatter, England's only true mountain forest, opened a group of family-friendly trails a few years ago to introduce children to basic navigational skills, giving them an opportunity to learn about the forest and the animals that live in it. By looking for clues or collecting answers along the trails, even very young children can interact with their environment and find their own way from one interpretation panel to another.
On a sunny day in July, we opt for the Squirrel Scurry trail, a moderate, one-mile hike around eight interpretation points. The girls have to read the panels and answer questions along the way, writing their answers on the trail map to win a squirrel badge. The route is suitable for easily tired toddler legs, as well as being accessible by buggy.
Adrian Jones, the Forestry Commission's recreation manager at Whinlatter, meets us at the visitor centre for a crash course in map-reading and compass points. "I feel free in the forest," he says, leading us towards a trailhead marker showing a carved red squirrel. "I started going to the woods with my father and grandfather – that's how I became hooked."
As we delve into the deep, dark coniferous forest, Olivia decides we're going on a bear hunt. After all, we are walking through a shaded woodland glade straight out of a story by Anthony Browne or Michael Rosen. "We can't go over it. We can't go under it," she sings. "We've got to go through it."
Maya, meanwhile, is taking charge of directions, folding out the map and scouring the horizon for waymarking posts as we head north. "This way," she says. "Follow me."
The woodland copse feels deliciously cool, away from the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. We savour this sensory forest feast, with pine cones crunching under foot, birdlife in the trees and wafts of wildflowers drifting by tantalisingly on the summer breeze. As we climb towards panel three, a viewpoint known as the Comb, the full panorama opens out before us. From our vantage point some 300m above sea level, we gaze out across Keswick and Derwentwater below us, and Helvellyn to the south.
Maya locates the panel and makes light work of the questions while Olivia busies herself collecting daisies and buttercups from beside the scrunchy, gravelly trail. By the time we move on, we've all learned that grey squirrels were brought to England from America in the 1870s and that baby squirrels are called kittens.
We head towards an intersection of walking and mountain-biking trails, where Tarbarrell Moss, one of the more remote sections of Whinlatter, leads deeper into the forest. Maya decides we need to turn left, dropping down through western red cedars, to duck under a squirrel rope bridge between the treetops.
She confidently leads the way, map in hand, along the final stretch. Even Olivia is finding her bearings as I carry her for a higher-level view of forest life, attempting to point out species of trees along the way and revealing my decidedly patchy knowledge in the process. Memo to self: download the Forestry Commission's ForestXplorer app before the next trip.
By this point I'm ready for a slap-up dinner and a pint of Jennings Cocker Hoop, but the girls have other ideas. After a round of ice-creams at Siskins cafe next to the visitor centre, we head back to the WildPlay trail, Olivia making a beeline for the Fairy Kingdom section.
We finish the afternoon leaping between toadstools, opening concealed doors in the tree stumps, and playing in a tree house, Olivia having set up an alfresco cafe to sell Maya's foraged ferns, leaves and berries.
Bear Grylls shouldn't start sweating just yet. But, after a weekend of squirrel trails and fairy dust at Whinlatter, we've come to appreciate the fragile beauty of the forest and the time we spend together exploring it.
*A break in the Lakes*
Whinlatter Forest offers a plethora of attractions, including miles of walking trails with stunning views across Bassenthwaite Lake, Derwentwater and Keswick, plus the longest purpose-built mountain-bike trails in the Lake District.
David Atkinson and family stayed at Packhorse Cottage in Low Lorton, three miles from Whinlatter; bookings via neighbouring Winder Hall. Formerly an inn for packhorse drivers crossing Whinlatter Pass, it is now converted into self-catering accommodation and sleeps five.
golakes.co.uk Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.