There are indeed many places in the Lake District that are considerably more remote than this spot, in fact a walk to either Wasdale or Eskdale from here is a relatively short affair; easy enough to follow in good conditions and not too strenuous at all. However, in stark contrast to almost all other parts of the district, this is somewhere that actually fills the lone walker with that rarest off feelings; one of being well and truly alone. Not in its simplest definition; from the realisation that no one else is about, but rather from the overwhelming mood of isolation the area casts over you.
This became particularly noticeable on the couple of occasions when I ventured across this moor on my own, while the cloud was down. On days such as those the desire to keep looking over your shoulder not only becomes very real, but also unavoidable. The imagination steps up a gear and the thought that this route was, at one time, used to transport coffins from Wasdale across to Boot for burial, sets all manner of thoughts into progress. Not least the tale of one particular burial party. This procession was following what I'm sure must have been a familiar route, when the horse carrying the coffin suddenly bolted and disappeared into the mist. The legend goes on to say that when the mother of the deceased was told the news, she died of a broken heart, caused by the thought that her son wouldn't be given a Christian burial. Inevitably her own funeral could not take place until her body had been carried over the same moor to St Catherine's Church in Boot. Once again the horse is said to have bolted, only this time, with a covering of snow on the ground, the rest of the party were able to follow the tracks left by the horse. To the surprise of the gathering however, the tracks didn't lead them to the horse carrying the old woman's coffin, but rather to that of the son. The irony of the tail is that the son did end up getting the burial which had been planned for him, yet the horse carrying his mothers body was never found.