On a roll now, I stopped ten minutes back down the line to Barrow, at Askam (not to be confused with Askham up the road, unless you’re BRAPA.
Loads of Beer Guide pubs round here, nearly all remote (compared to Kendall, anyway) and promising much.
Starting with the one on Askam Station’s doorstep, which was handy as it was a miserable night.
A small village with a bustling community no doubt settling in for the late afternoon session, I couldn’t wait.
Yes, obviously it was closed. Probably to deter the Black Eyed Pubbers.
Never mind. Courage fortified by those two pints in Foxfield, I activated my mobile phone torch and set off toward the Black Dog in the middle of nowhere (or B).
Plenty of places for a comfort break anyway, that’s the good point. A two mile walk uphill where you continually jump onto a sodden bank is good for the character, as BRAPA will know.
Still, the view to the bright lights of Sellafield competed with the smoke from bonfires and the smell of fertiliser. I thought I heard a tiger’s roar as I approached the Black Dog, the darkness gets to you.
Like an isolated drovers pub on the Welsh/English border or the Tandle Hill Tavern, remoteness adds character but does it mean a friendly welcome from the regulars, all of whom had clearly been driven.
Well, it wasn’t unfriendly. The locals, clustered at the bar, made way and the barmaid was Good Cheer herself, but you’re hardly going to pull a seat up to the bar, barge in and start discussing BREXIT, are you ? The only conversation I overheard centred on “the backstop“, and they weren’t debating the Chicago Cubs, Dick.
It had the feel of that farmers’ pub near Bridgnorth, or a Sussex pub run for the benefit of a handful of locals.
No-one seemed remotely interested in using the main body of the pub, of course.
So I sat close enough to the action, away from the giant fire, and actually just enjoyed a cool, clean, fruity half of Loweswater Gold (NBSS 3.5). Which is as ubiquitous as Adnams round here.
Yes, you noticed it. £3 a pint. An honorary micro.
I took my glass back, and said “Bye”. I don’t think they noticed.
It was a long walk back, uphill all the way.
retiredmartin 
“as BRAPA will know” –You must feel a special camaraderie with Simon and Duncan, as the two other people who truly know what attempting to complete the GBG involves.
I keep waiting for a fourth person to step forward: someone that Simon can turn to, with his years of experience, and say, “Hang in there, kid. You’ll get as far as I have, if you keep at it.” 🙂
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There’s a chap called Martin (no relation) a few miles away who’s done more than me, second only to Duncan I think. Sadly, no blog.
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Trying to understand “A two mile walk uphill” and then “It was a long walk back, uphill all the way” is delaying me getting back to sleep.
Oh, no, it’s that bastard quarter to four again !
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I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith.
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Jake Smith ?
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” you’re hardly going to pull a seat up to the bar, barge in and start discussing BREXIT, are you ? ”
I do just that if I stroll into my local and the conversation seems a bit dull.
Or I tell an Irish joke.
Either one is guaranteed to have the locals all up on their hind legs in seconds.
The old landlord used to tip me the wink occasionally to stir the pot if he thought the place needed livening up.
I had to be a bit wary of Mickey Two-Sups though as he could be a bit feisty after ten
pints.
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The best way we livened a pub up was in Welshpool about thirty years ago.
It was a proper local’s pub and, like most pubs then, had a juke box.
We noticed that bizarrely ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ and ‘Rule Britannia’ were amongst the selection and so mischiefly included them in our choice with favourites such as Beck’s Hi Ho Silver Lining. Just several seconds into Elgar’s classic “Who the fuck put this on ?” was bellowed in a Welsh accent and we just about managed to keep straight faces.
And we did the same the next evening.
That was when we were young.
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Funny 😉👍
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It’s a bit like asking if the locals have heard of the government plan to introduce a car-washing licence, when in West Yorkshire, I guess.
That’s given good mileage on occasion.
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According to my brothers, there is only one Chicago team, the White Sox. That is one conversation I am glad I missed. Of course, the beer would be worth being exposed to it.
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I wrote that just to annoy him/you !
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It will work if he ever gets out of the Manchester pubs.
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He’s still trying to get a beer changed in Oxford. Should take lessons from you ;-o
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Very good, very good.
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“unless you’re BRAPA.”
Or one of those folks who puts an ‘h’ on every word (i.e. hedge for edge). 🙂
“Loads of Beer Guide pubs round here, nearly all remote”
Any in Broughton-in-Furness? I have cousins there. If I ever do make it over for a pub crawl they want me to come on up for a visit.
“I activated my mobile phone torch”
I usually forget that there’s one built into the phone. 🙂
“where you continually jump onto a sodden bank is good for the character, as BRAPA will know.”
But probably bad for his wonky knee. 😉
“the darkness gets to you.”
Too bad it wasn’t called the Slaughtered Lamb.
“It was a long walk back, uphill all the way.”
Shades of walking uphill, both ways, in the snow, to school in the old days. 😉
Cheers
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I did consider the Slaughtered Lamb reference but it would have been totally unfair. Which won’t stop BRAPA using it.
Oh, Broughton, should have said. I’d intended doing the 2km walk uphill (both ways) to the GBG Manor Arms, apparently very good, but it was pouring. Two other pubs look OK too.
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Crikey. Didn’t realise it really is that close from Foxfield.
Cheers
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Love these kind of pubs that are still surviving desipte all possible reasons not too 👍👍 great stuff and above and beyond ….if it wasn’t in the GBG of course!
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