I dip my paddle into the lake, feeling the tug of water as I help to steer our canoe. Here on Bassenthwaite Lake in Cumbria, the sun warm against my skin and the misty breeze on my face, I feel calm and free, the water stretching far, the fells cradling us.
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I’m here with several other people as part of an activity weekend at the Lake District Calvert Trust. Located on the outskirts of Keswick in the north-western Lake District, the centre provides residential outdoor activity breaks for disabled people.
As a visually impaired person, I often feel out of place in the outdoors. I love the countryside, but navigating everything, from uneven ground to other people’s expectations, can make it challenging. I’ve also experienced mental ill health and know that being outdoors is one of the things that helps me. The mental health charity Mind cites how time spent in nature can help conditions such as anxiety and depression, along with improving mood and reducing stress.
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Barriers to the countryside
For people like me, there are barriers to accessing the countryside. Research by The Ramblers found that 56% of people with physical and sensory disabilities said that obstacles such as stiles, steps or gates stop them from using the UK’s path network.
There are negative attitudes, too. People are often surprised when I tell them I enjoy hiking, as if a partially sighted person shouldn’t have well-worn walking boots. My husband has noticed people giving me odd looks when I use my cane on a country walk. It makes me hesitate to use this symbol of sight loss, feeling I’m being judged. And when it comes to activities such as climbing and canoeing, some people require adapted equipment and staff who understand how to support them.
What is the Calvert Trust?
Places like the Calvert Trust’s base at Calvert Lakes in Keswick are designed to help people with the challenges I’ve just mentioned. Founded in 1976, the trust is a charity that provides adventure breaks throughout the year for adults and children with a range of disabilities. The centre has accessible overnight accommodation and caters all meals, with facilities including a hydrotherapy swimming pool and games room. The Calvert Trust also has centres in Northumberland and Devon.
Returning to Calvert Lakes
I first visited Calvert Lakes at the age of 14 in 2007, in a group with other visually impaired young people. I loved it: trying new experiences in a beautiful place while also meeting others in a similar situation to me, at a time when I was trying to make sense of having a disability. Returning as an adult, accompanied by my husband, was a chance to reconnect with somewhere that matters to me.
This time, there are 11 other participants at the centre, and I’m struck by the lovely sense of connection between everyone. There are the genuine cheers when someone who’s nervous (aka, me) manages to clamber to the top of the climbing wall, and the warm and lively conversations at dinner or in the centre’s social space over a drink each evening.
Access is woven naturally into the way things run, with activities adapted for each individual. There’s specialist equipment for those who need it, such as an abseiling slope for wheelchair users and accessible safety harnesses.
Accessible exploration
Each day typically involves two group activities led by experienced instructors. The first day, a brilliant bright Saturday, we head to the lakeshore for bushcraft. As we toast marshmallows on the fire we’ve worked together to create, I enjoy the sound of birdsong, the smell of woodsmoke, the sunlight dappled through trees. I’ve been interested in bushcraft for a while but assumed it wouldn’t be accessible to me. But today, there’s the understanding that I need to see things up close and take my time.
After a picnic, we’re out on the water on pairs of rafted canoes – which helps keep them stable – accompanied by a safety boat. My husband and I are in one canoe; two other participants, father and son Steve and Adam in the other with James, one of the centre’s instructors. We paddle nearly the entire length of Bassenthwaite. There’s something so satisfying about realising how far you’ve come under your own steam. As we paddle, James talks us through the surrounding fells – the bumpy summit of Barf on the western shore, the imposing mass of Skiddaw to the east. I instantly feel a deep connection with the Lake District.
The next morning is a ‘rock and rope’ session in the centre’s sports hall. I notice how staff tailor their approach to each person – not just in terms of access, but in understanding how to gently push people a little out of their comfort zone. Standing at the top of the abseiling wall, my hands trembling, I’m reassured it’s okay, but never feel forced. I take a breath, step out and abseil down. It’s moments like this, where you’re able to push yourself and feel genuinely proud that show why adventure activities can be such a brilliant way of experiencing new things and challenging yourself.
The last afternoon is perhaps what Lakeland is best for: hiking. We’re driven to near the summit of Dodd (the centre has permission to use the track), and spend a couple of hours hiking downhill, which means it’s accessible to wheelchair users and others who wouldn’t manage an uphill walk. The track is relatively smooth, and I know it’s okay if I need to take my time. Surrounded by verdant conifers and gorse frothing with golden flowers, with Derwentwater glistening below, I appreciate how, for many, a hike in the fells isn’t possible if you’re disabled. But here, we can all experience it.
Why are accessible centres important?
Speaking with other participants, I understand why places like this matter so much. Steve and Adam tell me how they’ve visited Calvert Lakes regularly for the past 10 years. “We get to do all sorts of activities we can’t do at home, as there aren’t the adapted facilities,” Steve says as we chat one evening in the social space. “This part of the Lakes is beautiful – you wake up in the morning and it’s a really lovely view. Coming here, you can get away from things.” For them, it’s a chance to spend quality time together and to enjoy the countryside.
I ask one of the instructors, James, about the importance of places like Calvert Lakes. “It’s an experience that a lot of people that come here can’t usually have,” he said. “It’s not very often they get to go out on to the lake or up into the hills.”
For me, perhaps the biggest thing about the weekend is feeling like I don’t need to hide who I am. No one is judging me for being a visually impaired person out in nature. I haven’t tried to ‘pass’ as non-disabled or spent time worrying about whether people thought I shouldn’t be outdoors. I can be me. I can relax and have a good time. Everyone deserves the right to enjoy the countryside, and places like Calvert Lakes are helping that happen.
All photography by Jumpy James
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