Lucky suggested that if he’s to compleat (sic) his Wainwrights (HIS Wainwights?! Ha!) in any kind of decent timeframe, we’d best get on and bag one.
As he’s only two years old, I thought that an easy one would be Just The Thing.
So we pointed the knipemobile over Killhope Cross and Hartside Pass and parked neatly on some mud quite close, but outside the overpriced United Utilities car park at Thirlspot, thus saving beer tokens to the tune of at least two pints.
First we struggled and sweated up Wren Crag, a Birkett with a fine view of Castle Rock of Triermain and some clouds.
Then, we pranced manfully and dogfully along the pleasant ridge to High Rigg South-East Top, a Tump where it started raining pretty heavily, but briefly and so, we sheltered in my group-shelter. Lucky snoozed and I had coffee and chocolate whilst it lashed down outside for quarter of an hour or so. Lucky is not allowed chocolate nor coffee so he got nowt.
After it stopped, we descended steeply where we were completely blanked by two old phogies struggling onwards in the general direction of the Wainwright top. After living in County Durham for thirty years, being blanked by fellow huming beans, being the only huming beans in the vicinity is strangely hurtful. I quickly formed the opinion that they were probably from That London or Surrey, or somewhere where you’re not allowed to talk to strangers in case somebody says something interesting that changes your life forever and makes you want to live on a small but warm island covered in coconut trees whilst drinking white rum and generally getting off your face. The wife’s mother probably wouldn’t approve of this type of thing, so….
So, we grumpily went off and bagged High Rigg, another Birkett.
Then, we caught up with the two
ignorant old frts old chaps on the summit of Naddle Fell – the Wainwright summit. Here, they shuffled off quickly whilst avoiding eye contact and descended in the direction whence they had come.
Me and the pooch descended towards the North where, on some slabs on the side of Low Rigg, a large group were playing. There were wheelchairs involved…..
On the descent , I passed quite closely to our two snooty pals. One caught my eye and began to speak. Lucky blanked him. So did I. Smug mode. I once went on a tube. I know the drill.
The peeps on the crag turned out to be Calvert Trust peeps, doing what Calvert Trust peeps do. And a cracking job it is. The one individual I met – pushing a wheelchair back down the hill, petted Lucky and chatted briefly. Y’see, that’s all it takes. It’s quite normal to talk to other walkers on the hill. Sometimes it can be quite pleasant. Sometimes important and useful information can be exchanged. In parts of County Durham, hours can pass whilst this process takes place. (I’m particularly talking Deerness valley here by the way..)
We finished our bagging on Low Rigg – a lovely, rocky top with a smashing view of Blencathra and Skiddaw.
We returned to our cheaply parked transport via the bridleways and field paths along the East side of the ridge. And very nice it all was. And only six miles too. And Lucky got his Wainwright (He’s done nine now)
We returned to knipetowers whence we came, visiting Brian in his fire-damaged chapel-in-the-sky at Nenthead. (We’re talking a serious fire, here, folks)