I woke up to blue sky and sunshine so I sent out a text to see if anyone fancied a swim. Margaret was up for a spur of the moment adventure and so we decided to seek out the Secret Reservoir in Bolton. It is actually the Reservoir of Dean Mills and it sits in the shadow of Winter Hill, but locally it is referred to as the Secret Reservoir. It was an apt name today as it was rather elusive.
The trusty satnav told us we had arrived as we drove up the single track lane. With no water in sight and surrounded with moorland we just had to find somewhere to park. There were passing points but I wouldn’t be popular if I’d blocked one of those so we drove on. Then the trusty satnav became not so trusty. Turn left. Left!! The reservoir was definitely on our right so we abandoned the satnav, we were on our own….but not for long. We pulled in for a car to pass and rolled down the window. A very helpful man explained that the reservoir was most definitely on the right and unfortunately parking was difficult. Before we could move on a van came along driven by the lovely Lance. We apologised for keeping him waiting whilst we were asking about parking and he said we could go a bit further on and go onto his private road and park….what a lovely chap.
Once parked we set off, uphill. Up to the road. Up a track that led nowhere.
Back down to the road. Up the road. Up a track towards Winter Hill. Up steps….up up up. The view was wonderful, but no sign of any water.
If we don’t find it at least we had a good walk. Up a little bit further then, Hallelujah, we spotted water.
It wasn’t easy getting in as there were large stones and we were ungainly, but we didn’t care. We were being so careful not to trip on a rock that we didn’t notice the cold. We swam out. There was big sky, moors all around us, the wind blowing and us. A couple of hikers appeared, they said hello and shook their heads in disbelief as we swam. Then we were alone, at one with nature and just a small part in a big beautiful picture. It was wonderful, wonderful to swim in so long as you didn’t put your feet down on the squishy, squelchy peaty bottom.
Getting out was as tricky as getting in. Thank goodness that there was no one to witness us balancing on rocks and clambering up the bank, but we didn’t really care. We’d had a mini adventure with a lovely swim.
need2bleed 