tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1779186759795730102024-03-13T18:49:20.040+00:00northern piesThis is a personal blog mainly to do with hillwalking things but with other stuff as well.....maybe the odd rant..Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.comBlogger1286125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-6177161907987965872024-02-13T21:15:00.003+00:002024-02-13T21:20:07.990+00:00Things to Do Before the TGO Challenge<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpXxMNFOhiCCGNO1j8OLzgPGT5iS41ZKHbQO-ts1KzrTNMP3HF7Sca_tntefIa2JQ7MeaDKXwSzi6ilSVCFNYipMsH_AlaZ_OIuttEJpngzKvHXHWqbHu4Jd8VSAg7c8rUfRSIhb31MVqQEMHhyphenhypheng13TDvrhd_0hGwqhjoo269C5o8Tusn04ddnzlBcqWE/s1000/R0010322.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpXxMNFOhiCCGNO1j8OLzgPGT5iS41ZKHbQO-ts1KzrTNMP3HF7Sca_tntefIa2JQ7MeaDKXwSzi6ilSVCFNYipMsH_AlaZ_OIuttEJpngzKvHXHWqbHu4Jd8VSAg7c8rUfRSIhb31MVqQEMHhyphenhypheng13TDvrhd_0hGwqhjoo269C5o8Tusn04ddnzlBcqWE/w640-h480/R0010322.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TGO 2023 Bynack Lodge Camp<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">When you take part in the The Great Outdoors (TGO) challenge there are several skills and attitudes that you must either acquire or develop and you must hone these to a fine edge sharp enough to slice a frozen mars bar into sufficient pieces to share with four friends, supposing that you have four friends. So, to this end, I have started to sharpen my winter-blunted edge and am searching for something to slice, particularly since my diabetic nurse looks askance at any suggestion of the inclusion of chocolate-based delicacies in my diet. Mind you, she is a bit puritan when it comes to scoffing or drinking anything at all which might be vaguely enjoyable. I tell her that it won't extend my life, but it will definately seem a lot longer.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO78ylWLcXMNBZxzPZeO6mP1YHvCY2JYXgoTRMjMHyfEPQVZxm0pn0xTfg4T1fXi3QmiP3q2BL3tQKI_p1xBpBOG8FDv9vqu1ND_r7esIG4lebYyeIeBK0dY72NJ3L62FxLz6G5ly-Hry6PNL9IkXnVUC7JCxv3bWRRZEOFBNTVam1qYDg6tQI7ISoGzlA/s1000/R0010319.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO78ylWLcXMNBZxzPZeO6mP1YHvCY2JYXgoTRMjMHyfEPQVZxm0pn0xTfg4T1fXi3QmiP3q2BL3tQKI_p1xBpBOG8FDv9vqu1ND_r7esIG4lebYyeIeBK0dY72NJ3L62FxLz6G5ly-Hry6PNL9IkXnVUC7JCxv3bWRRZEOFBNTVam1qYDg6tQI7ISoGzlA/w640-h480/R0010319.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A TGO challenger camping somewhere at the top of Glen Tilt</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Not so long ago there was a famiss legend and TGO Challenger going by the name of Alan Sloman. Now each year, a month or so before the TGO Chally, he arranged a "Daunder". This was a few days backpacking somewhere nice with a group of individuals and during which some rules applied. One of the rules was that a chap from (I believe) Morpeth timed the group's progress across the landscape and, should the speed exceed 1 mph, he had the power to stop the group and order a brew-up. Apart from anything else, this ensured that nobody got left behind. Camps were mainly wild(ish) and, generally, fun was had. Puritans and specialist nurses might ponder if such a relaxed attitude was the Right Thing, given that the TGO challenge can be a bit tough at times. But, that's the thing, see... much of success in 2 weeks walking across the country in, sometimes, less than ideal weather, is <i>in the mind. </i>If the brain is elsewhere, success is unlikely and a bus home from Pitlochry (or similar) is the most likely outcome. Unfortunately, Alan passed away last year, and nobody has popped up with a similar event.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJKjxfaJjxKxRfKYX0R9zDy3gnbmEKPAdg5cM2HF6YaPeB3XZaBdMxaAwWhTkBtPTuAxfIG7z_uPXUsLefHRzA6tw9310vCWTRAhsM7wMouNt4CBA3yVKUMdrB0yCnOFKyixV7x58bC-O3wTl4EaAGWtAP1jG9GAkr4rDwzVLNSy15UxwudN24qxcNLuu/s1000/RIMG0462.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJKjxfaJjxKxRfKYX0R9zDy3gnbmEKPAdg5cM2HF6YaPeB3XZaBdMxaAwWhTkBtPTuAxfIG7z_uPXUsLefHRzA6tw9310vCWTRAhsM7wMouNt4CBA3yVKUMdrB0yCnOFKyixV7x58bC-O3wTl4EaAGWtAP1jG9GAkr4rDwzVLNSy15UxwudN24qxcNLuu/w640-h480/RIMG0462.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a long walk in Weardale</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, as I usually do, I'm doing my own thing anyway. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, one of the things that needs to be done is to get the psychology right. Several things need to be practised and one of the most important of these, in my 'umble, is to relax. There's no point in worrying about how far there is to go and that everybody else seems to know what they're doing and am I getting left behind, and where are my teabags (I once lost these for three days before they turned up)</span></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58yFJ352q66dUy-Nj3vWJXQ6XUHhCuc64hnY2Omn-0j2_x5m4IUaztehcKIVfP47POTblVHRpvsDNRvMdOGJNMCyK7vp2PEz3l0PcQqyNuuz1aLxelZWStFh-R655zgzwrMXWntocZ9tX7-Z8_kn-btcth3TEoEolHJGrkxEV1hsle8osywC9Yo-kyjRv/s1000/RIMG0484.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58yFJ352q66dUy-Nj3vWJXQ6XUHhCuc64hnY2Omn-0j2_x5m4IUaztehcKIVfP47POTblVHRpvsDNRvMdOGJNMCyK7vp2PEz3l0PcQqyNuuz1aLxelZWStFh-R655zgzwrMXWntocZ9tX7-Z8_kn-btcth3TEoEolHJGrkxEV1hsle8osywC9Yo-kyjRv/w640-h480/RIMG0484.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">February Camping near Arkengarthdale</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And, of course, you need to be able to walk reasonably long distances with a pack that's a bit heavier than normal, fuelled by unhealthy dehydrated food, sometimes with a blister and a hangover AND not fall off anything, get washed away in a river or acquire the squitters.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gutzX1LyYZ14wcmyGuTVTfXywaIh-pZE83xmtKIb5xErjpBnDatA92EEXjVEqR4fPXOcqb4QQ3h_pzLXaxj2vlaX37ujW4quHYy7WagO0cReJdzhnZVKGABodcevKB1hQaa80w8pKihOzZV1szIql7poxoaZ3-G08xyGAE_V-Z7Ol3J7B5AXBislvf_I/s1000/RIMG0477.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gutzX1LyYZ14wcmyGuTVTfXywaIh-pZE83xmtKIb5xErjpBnDatA92EEXjVEqR4fPXOcqb4QQ3h_pzLXaxj2vlaX37ujW4quHYy7WagO0cReJdzhnZVKGABodcevKB1hQaa80w8pKihOzZV1szIql7poxoaZ3-G08xyGAE_V-Z7Ol3J7B5AXBislvf_I/w640-h480/RIMG0477.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ringo distributing bits of a chewstick and dog spit on my sleeping bag</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, I'm doing the following things:</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A short backpacking trip each month with each one getting a bit longer in distance and the number of nights. This produces all sorts of advantages such as not bothering getting up when it's snowing heavily against the tent door, resisting the 3:00 a.m. attentions of Mr Bladder, never passing a tea-room, cafe or pub and trying to get radio reception in English that doesn't fade in and out all the time. You also learn what is nice to eat and what isn't and the most efficient way to make porridge AND whether or not the tent holds up in a strong wind and if it leaks anywhere.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">ALSO (There's more) - Once a month, with pals, I'm doing a long walk - 20 miles or more, although not much more.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>The only difference is that I am accompanied by Ringo the dog, who has settled in to the rhythm of very long winter nights in his woofbag see link below)</span><span> He doesn't snore and he doesn't move and he carries his own food, and the rubbish that camping produces. He's not allowed on the Challenge and will be spending Challenge time on holiday in Derbyshire with his pal Merlin (my son's dog)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've done all of this in previous years<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalmEnAFsvaHGHVYO_OVzsqfgQqAqOTQBOkMm8JYVAP6AgxdA7MUKeXYmenHjW4xAb8kSkOcs7p9czju-xkEOVS8YuEqzzU48FOoyexyWVoGGhArSmJf81qSdQiTCo_56EdrEc0KVLUb2cflBLJGwOG7LvJtoneY4EqIATpWnCdpIBU_NYrAjISTp9ug5J/s1000/R0010388.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalmEnAFsvaHGHVYO_OVzsqfgQqAqOTQBOkMm8JYVAP6AgxdA7MUKeXYmenHjW4xAb8kSkOcs7p9czju-xkEOVS8YuEqzzU48FOoyexyWVoGGhArSmJf81qSdQiTCo_56EdrEc0KVLUb2cflBLJGwOG7LvJtoneY4EqIATpWnCdpIBU_NYrAjISTp9ug5J/w640-h480/R0010388.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My feet in the North Sea TGO 2023</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI51NNsjnOAgTjjJAbCKpjXJntXou8Yffw9EH_smTFjVFBbNEV07hamJboQr5DEsWwuPwuVKg3ELbjSn7hlYDQ7K3I72qrQi665W6CffPmuNHp5K2ED9VFocvNpIcuo6Ij8-8iOpi8DbGIqDMaFRD5gcXLuNHrfSfNA2UpNMj4rfAulfWYhiElel3XLeB/s1000/RIMG0283.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI51NNsjnOAgTjjJAbCKpjXJntXou8Yffw9EH_smTFjVFBbNEV07hamJboQr5DEsWwuPwuVKg3ELbjSn7hlYDQ7K3I72qrQi665W6CffPmuNHp5K2ED9VFocvNpIcuo6Ij8-8iOpi8DbGIqDMaFRD5gcXLuNHrfSfNA2UpNMj4rfAulfWYhiElel3XLeB/w640-h480/RIMG0283.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December camp oooop Weardale</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Whether or not any of this actually works is, perhaps a moot point. My point, though, is that it does help with the psychology of the challenge and, sometimes, it's quite good fun. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I know that some people like to weigh everything, down to the last gramme, evangelise about their particular choice of equipment to the extent that they may suggest that if you don't have the same, you're clearly an idiot and they report walking 20+ miles a day for several days and finishing well before everybody else. They produce gear lists with weights and bristle with electronics. <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wR8A2mlM7qXZq4yhELhFOeD1FtoxQrHYk_pdgjsJm846qW9aRD4g5YMTyhwpa4LrDHJUYQ6XV-Z-kZ4hyphenhyphenwe0WAwm27qTUk7TmLF5i8ih8KtFuWuxe5osALPqC2tYR846-OrjccXXeX9hWFlf0RqUHxtJRR7s7971teCA87hPLhv3d3Kp1AYE1JF4WdPr/s1000/RIMG0363.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wR8A2mlM7qXZq4yhELhFOeD1FtoxQrHYk_pdgjsJm846qW9aRD4g5YMTyhwpa4LrDHJUYQ6XV-Z-kZ4hyphenhyphenwe0WAwm27qTUk7TmLF5i8ih8KtFuWuxe5osALPqC2tYR846-OrjccXXeX9hWFlf0RqUHxtJRR7s7971teCA87hPLhv3d3Kp1AYE1JF4WdPr/w640-h480/RIMG0363.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dawn on a ling walk by the Tees (this is a flood, not the River Tees)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">My method is just to think in little compartments - tent (plus pegs and poles), sleeping, cooking, washing, eating, lighting and in-tent entertainment. My only nod to ultra-lightness is to walk in a kilt - just got a new one - and thus the requirement to pack 3 pairs of undies is dispensed with. So, I can enjoy a nice breeze on a hot day, have a wee without , apparently moving at all and receive compliments, except at Tarfside - see previous post hopefully a more mature attitude might have developed. - Although I do have to invent the names of various Scottish clans and it does attract the attention of American tourists who declare that it is their "first kilt", ask for pictures and demand to know which part of Scotland I'm from. They never ask the obvious question.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure I should have written this by the way. Usually, if I write stuff like this, everything goes badly wrong. It's a temptation to failure. <b>If</b> I get to Arbroath in 2024, I will have completed my 19th TGO challenge. I have a 5 day section in the middle of the Challenge with no shops ner nowt, so it's not going to be a pushover. If you comment expressing confidence that I will succeed, you'll only be making it worse</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tjEbmBmktUApOQ0F-IIEafxhmmOgG63LVrLn1MXL4F7vhGe6i4-qit6cZrJZmm0JQssKQL2WrFIhb1qCu7PKCMtc7UpeMnYEsCFUAjbv5n0TTsXQaAgWjFjzXl_WWyOsjZvQxgKvFlUm-sTz7U8srAKrdp_CYpwtrCRMolqX0mH21XBklF-03GLGQODq/s1000/RIMG0479.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tjEbmBmktUApOQ0F-IIEafxhmmOgG63LVrLn1MXL4F7vhGe6i4-qit6cZrJZmm0JQssKQL2WrFIhb1qCu7PKCMtc7UpeMnYEsCFUAjbv5n0TTsXQaAgWjFjzXl_WWyOsjZvQxgKvFlUm-sTz7U8srAKrdp_CYpwtrCRMolqX0mH21XBklF-03GLGQODq/w640-h480/RIMG0479.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dog snoozing in the sun Sleightholme Moor</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Woofbags, sleeping bags for dogs hand-stitched by Chrissie Crowther (Ringo loves his!) link below. Get one for your best friend. (Provided your best friend is a dog)</span><p></p><p> <a href="https://woofbags.wordpress.com/contact/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">https://woofbags.wordpress.com/contact/</span></a><br /></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-41070921066661313242023-09-18T22:33:00.000+01:002023-09-18T22:33:03.335+01:00Pieman's 18th TGO Challenge 2023<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQN9Z-9s2dkvXNgblnolgndqEvX6k2n3X0ktR7IRiG22vd1lsiSB0jTHQOMp74_b4vpMlcJtg166lcfuiIq_TDx14duPGJSL69eTshC74uf7nOTrQxy8LgLAKYkstnGf7wTmeTk77Z7Q-Yu_knCpqy02rcH_YkNy-V9hh0YQ9qQB3xktW8uJes1QYwr0Vg/s1000/R0010180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQN9Z-9s2dkvXNgblnolgndqEvX6k2n3X0ktR7IRiG22vd1lsiSB0jTHQOMp74_b4vpMlcJtg166lcfuiIq_TDx14duPGJSL69eTshC74uf7nOTrQxy8LgLAKYkstnGf7wTmeTk77Z7Q-Yu_knCpqy02rcH_YkNy-V9hh0YQ9qQB3xktW8uJes1QYwr0Vg/w640-h480/R0010180.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oban Harbour</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">It is written that amongst the wise, repetitive implementation of the same , or similar plans expecting a different result. but merely encountering the same result repeated, but yet doing it again, and yet again, is a sign of madness.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And so, having been let down by Northern Rail on Durham Station by a train that refused to move and was overtaken, at some speed by the train I was supposed to catch was the first sign that doing the same thing again (that is to say, relying on a train service to get me where I am supposed to be at the time I am supposed to be there) was just the first incident from which I ought to learn. Northern Rail have done it before and, I expect, will do it again. But, by running about like an eejit at Waverley station and Glasgow Queen Street, I eventually managed to arrive at Oban at, close enough, the time I was supposed to be there.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiN1AELIFMpYnsACukAXMgycqFymKAPojvJ4ecCcUD224Z3yGRaobbhdlgZsv7-QU1yNFt2ofyPcPfgamnK9qeWGRN5k3XqMJpTqFpSctI5QEgCxGDp0JXQV5BCWKG4h4tnCEme1Nj163Sn7E3O2QgcpZiAAgUKkmkglpS0hrFA6RQd2pppj8o0-dJxL9Q/s1000/R0010188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiN1AELIFMpYnsACukAXMgycqFymKAPojvJ4ecCcUD224Z3yGRaobbhdlgZsv7-QU1yNFt2ofyPcPfgamnK9qeWGRN5k3XqMJpTqFpSctI5QEgCxGDp0JXQV5BCWKG4h4tnCEme1Nj163Sn7E3O2QgcpZiAAgUKkmkglpS0hrFA6RQd2pppj8o0-dJxL9Q/w640-h480/R0010188.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Lonan ( nice, innit)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">I've started from Oban before - but this time, I did something different. I walked to Taynuilt with Kate, a first timer from the far North who somehow knew JJ. Everybody knows JJ, though, so maybe no surprise. I had a light pack, so I could keep up with her youthful pace. And the reason I had a light pack was because I had a train ticket from Taynuilt back to Oban. We parted in Taynuilt and I returned to Spoons where they fed and watered me and didn't make jokes about the kilt.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEL07u9kRwIa4kfBr3-dTyH0CSeD9dZe0bevnn_g7-APB9WgebsB96Y94asM2aYONMlLqaVHuAo8p_V43dB27w3xO5NcsFaeUCF1rUvi4RGB9CxOk1jMGmRJB_Upxq0pmJHJ4WnA-xOzf2AQSNc1uhQbV_XEylzc-LzthXhWO_iKdMfWu7PRYxPzPCPbS/s1000/R0010206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEL07u9kRwIa4kfBr3-dTyH0CSeD9dZe0bevnn_g7-APB9WgebsB96Y94asM2aYONMlLqaVHuAo8p_V43dB27w3xO5NcsFaeUCF1rUvi4RGB9CxOk1jMGmRJB_Upxq0pmJHJ4WnA-xOzf2AQSNc1uhQbV_XEylzc-LzthXhWO_iKdMfWu7PRYxPzPCPbS/w640-h480/R0010206.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Etive</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDswJ1lYTj9GxW4WOyt356lDZ8KPIAlb4gzoioKbD8HIMOISpqxSZlT84JCok7J7mextTWVVf2vFlPuxbYBoYWQyjuigchyXjhILQCyglxXfU90HtUMac9NGfBbTjAU4MwssI3uy27tk-_Bm3Bj3-ckrvl0HPT96rMyfSpqfe8hKCFxFUw1Rfu77SkJ8yf/s1000/R0010222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDswJ1lYTj9GxW4WOyt356lDZ8KPIAlb4gzoioKbD8HIMOISpqxSZlT84JCok7J7mextTWVVf2vFlPuxbYBoYWQyjuigchyXjhILQCyglxXfU90HtUMac9NGfBbTjAU4MwssI3uy27tk-_Bm3Bj3-ckrvl0HPT96rMyfSpqfe8hKCFxFUw1Rfu77SkJ8yf/w640-h480/R0010222.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Drizzlybum aka Loch Dochart</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">This plan had worked well. In the morning, Spoons fed me a huge breakfast which I couldn't quite manage and Scotrail whisked me back to Taynuilt where I plodded off up Glen Etive, turning Right at Glen Kinglas. I walked some of the time with Rolf, an anglophile European and was passed by Lindy and we met some others too. There were four of us camping at the head of Glen Kinglas. It rained. Then it rained some more, followed closely by a damp spell. This is not particularly unusual. In the morning I bashed on to the West Highland Way and followed it South surreptitiously, hiding behind tussocks or pretending to tie my bootlaces if it looked back. I arrived at Tyndrum where I had a bed in a hotel, busy with West Highland Wayfarers and some TGO challengers who didn't want to talk to me. So I repaired to a pub where I allowed some bikers the chance to worship the ground that was still stuck to my boots when they learned that I was 78 years old and had taken three days to walk from Oban when they'd done it in 40 minutes. I'm not actually 78 by the way, but why spoil a good story and the chance of free beer?</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYbwIv7k2owpJQLGPH5TMATHxR_924segXNzMJV93hIZn658m6--xXtJ0jWp9-Ev-x88pz0SmXKLZy-2NAvDdcn_CbQtSobQhCsEt6IiSB6MO0f59OhxS7EncC89HOHdsf-P9lFd3pwpBdw9Y3J8cFflgTdItie4Az81wx8uI7Fs08h-ZdOjRoJPlZQ5o/s1000/R0010299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYbwIv7k2owpJQLGPH5TMATHxR_924segXNzMJV93hIZn658m6--xXtJ0jWp9-Ev-x88pz0SmXKLZy-2NAvDdcn_CbQtSobQhCsEt6IiSB6MO0f59OhxS7EncC89HOHdsf-P9lFd3pwpBdw9Y3J8cFflgTdItie4Az81wx8uI7Fs08h-ZdOjRoJPlZQ5o/w640-h480/R0010299.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Killiecrankie</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZzEHLkU7Pb-nDjGBGYWi42zk-tWpXamEEsDXNbpXFswX3RFab8PpU0c7H0BvPDoGQsya94K_-iZzXwYxmg-lDrtsgkzM2y0JnxbLkv8rV8jhi5qJsyK5nQ32ZvpQusp6Dv_8mCT8VSxnqP9dGBN9z4Y2XvGjUS8hk8h4GBs6fP6xvmrqMf3THNoHxF1Vm/s1000/R0010257.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZzEHLkU7Pb-nDjGBGYWi42zk-tWpXamEEsDXNbpXFswX3RFab8PpU0c7H0BvPDoGQsya94K_-iZzXwYxmg-lDrtsgkzM2y0JnxbLkv8rV8jhi5qJsyK5nQ32ZvpQusp6Dv_8mCT8VSxnqP9dGBN9z4Y2XvGjUS8hk8h4GBs6fP6xvmrqMf3THNoHxF1Vm/w640-h480/R0010257.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH5u_FCKJtatQItcwNUbXTL9wEFdsHUjw6vC0gx2bhv-6W9K0EjXhrj1XrP3SaRKdkJmDZfadsiYAYOLoY_SmYGKYFhGB996fWsGfUHNo7beo2vqx8HPDFndvOce5zKeLf1gTZ6DtXJmD_Z4z2qg0pwR3BDIrOnnlCaSQrUyHH65RCtu7OXcs2UaDf0ty/s1000/R0010269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH5u_FCKJtatQItcwNUbXTL9wEFdsHUjw6vC0gx2bhv-6W9K0EjXhrj1XrP3SaRKdkJmDZfadsiYAYOLoY_SmYGKYFhGB996fWsGfUHNo7beo2vqx8HPDFndvOce5zKeLf1gTZ6DtXJmD_Z4z2qg0pwR3BDIrOnnlCaSQrUyHH65RCtu7OXcs2UaDf0ty/w640-h480/R0010269.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another discreet camp next to Loch Tay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">The previous three pictures are completely in the wrong order by the way.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So orf I jolly well went down the west Highland Way again and then at Auchtertyre, I heaved myself up the glen to the North, getting a bit lost for a while and then, after passing easily through the Gleann a Chlachain Mountain woodland, where it chucked it down in a big way, I passed over the bealach into Glen Lochay. This goes to Killin, after a bit of discreet camping next to a very nice <strike>beck</strike> burn. I allowed myself to be exploited a bit in Killin to the tune of a nice lunch and some tea , before joining the Rob Roy Way and completely missing the turn off I was supposed to turn off at and walking all the way down the road to Ardeonaig where I found a lovely camping spot next to the loch, just below a roadside sign which said "No Camping". I considered that this probably didn't apply to me and in any case I was hidden from the road and there wasn't much traffic anyway.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3WGEhy6uwFXxUocilBDKK3EQfWe1xBxb-fXDS_KkiUSXJ7WJjL0v_V9MTfk8-9cfLOg5ebYonRgBc00uXe1AvrwXtb3bhIjunMXWcJRz6SVgkFnb8GYvr8TJHAS8V_BRaAgkN0pUTorXiNjkit_dD2sPOexrLhcAWJHsLwrQwA2yYzRVIJL00VscPVhGc/s1000/R0010317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3WGEhy6uwFXxUocilBDKK3EQfWe1xBxb-fXDS_KkiUSXJ7WJjL0v_V9MTfk8-9cfLOg5ebYonRgBc00uXe1AvrwXtb3bhIjunMXWcJRz6SVgkFnb8GYvr8TJHAS8V_BRaAgkN0pUTorXiNjkit_dD2sPOexrLhcAWJHsLwrQwA2yYzRVIJL00VscPVhGc/w640-h480/R0010317.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Tilt</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJhC-oOQAUpCl_c43tm_3PZyHbWazs1KZFFwuD87yIIBJ4wsYPk0yIkuOK5N85nG2mb_SHy2FlkXp9vARLgabzwW7PhoVyrycIEX2THNhLK1N9XBBFvLz4k4X1j346Q4BcN8iljqsz9CfdXSfyD7PrGIpFwv3xfQ760-qCQwq6dd3qtmHMbh0n4oQ9uCI/s1000/R0010331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJhC-oOQAUpCl_c43tm_3PZyHbWazs1KZFFwuD87yIIBJ4wsYPk0yIkuOK5N85nG2mb_SHy2FlkXp9vARLgabzwW7PhoVyrycIEX2THNhLK1N9XBBFvLz4k4X1j346Q4BcN8iljqsz9CfdXSfyD7PrGIpFwv3xfQ760-qCQwq6dd3qtmHMbh0n4oQ9uCI/w640-h480/R0010331.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign near Mar Lodge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3cMWrahpV8HKas-U6EGHwdhqVULYpe1Cx_Js3wKpPVlEDXlwusSLeYwiZFLy9wAOsXDpAVVPuxDPIdFLy7YByiQhAS11aKQL_3gmJy56ukREkVQGsGrZnNrDiSabF7XNnzlV4gVcH6r0dhg7EDPIoXJr7jujOrXRrSFHrCOCdabGAdX_gmEWyfbTbwwH/s1000/R0010345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3cMWrahpV8HKas-U6EGHwdhqVULYpe1Cx_Js3wKpPVlEDXlwusSLeYwiZFLy9wAOsXDpAVVPuxDPIdFLy7YByiQhAS11aKQL_3gmJy56ukREkVQGsGrZnNrDiSabF7XNnzlV4gVcH6r0dhg7EDPIoXJr7jujOrXRrSFHrCOCdabGAdX_gmEWyfbTbwwH/w640-h480/R0010345.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">International TGO ers snooze break</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Aberfeldy came and went and provided food and a camp site and the Rob Roy Way continued without incident or accident to Pitlochry where I became slightly mislaid on the High Street, ultimately fullfilling my gastronomic desires and the purchase of fresh supplies of rough whisky. I took the path through the Pass of Jimmy Krankie through to Blair Atholl where I didn't like the food and the service was rubbish. The Pass, though was fandabbydozy. As was Glen Tilt. Gloen Tilt was heavily populated by TGO challengers and cyclists and just some of the time, I walked alone. I camped with four others at Bynack Lodge - a ruined hunting lodge and a <strike>fandabby</strike> (don't start that again) cracking place to camp. And in the morning and bits of the afternoon, I wandered through to Braemar and the campsite and the cafe and the pub.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ballater was a long way next and somewhere during this stage, I met up with Jo, a Japanese chap with shin splints and (?Mark) , an American without shin splints. He was a Monty Python fan, so we got on. The King was out at Balmoral and Ballater was better than Braemar, providing scoff, beer, shelter and a breakfast and nobody mentioned the kilt.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmmaxJ7MBYvXVEwwI20mcKxTmmir5bqATT2GB95Ad860mevEwedz8pT4K7gEnObqDasKStiH80AoAAsrnhO-sNV5KfzgdMdFZSZP-3hBF9RkxOftJEuJZS6drJ8LSTsA1rIAUb2wBC0VoMzSsvLNMkT8CrwH5Cagtlkh850SedzIal99kOdleVs-0WaLP/s1000/R0010363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmmaxJ7MBYvXVEwwI20mcKxTmmir5bqATT2GB95Ad860mevEwedz8pT4K7gEnObqDasKStiH80AoAAsrnhO-sNV5KfzgdMdFZSZP-3hBF9RkxOftJEuJZS6drJ8LSTsA1rIAUb2wBC0VoMzSsvLNMkT8CrwH5Cagtlkh850SedzIal99kOdleVs-0WaLP/w640-h480/R0010363.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgDtWJdJAitSH4wKpfkYjC6P0q-HU6WVS4sRfwLtGJGmSIQmk_TqIHzTqdSH4ViG5EoiAk5bLSqlg96np09yYvuD98P-I4-0s5lfGPQbE5YkfVT45NexM6HBoYWduZQ_v2U0dQysQEviVNBcN7CIRzB-o1BslVzRIRIiOp7umCGxc4ImntUORKK64pcSp/s1000/R0010379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgDtWJdJAitSH4wKpfkYjC6P0q-HU6WVS4sRfwLtGJGmSIQmk_TqIHzTqdSH4ViG5EoiAk5bLSqlg96np09yYvuD98P-I4-0s5lfGPQbE5YkfVT45NexM6HBoYWduZQ_v2U0dQysQEviVNBcN7CIRzB-o1BslVzRIRIiOp7umCGxc4ImntUORKK64pcSp/w640-h480/R0010379.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sir Dave at Edzell </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsarM8I4aB9mjLsT0FVQ9Ag1Bh5qT0hUo0jyObD7mpIwdN7aMiD5Cro9wqq30x_Yu7SAklIqbSmgoxeU8v9Gk80SkjmN9Hwoxmo9mjhZVb7VoAswHrORo9WitZWQiLKODMpghMHj7aSE1ikfvXpM4os8TsC3CoBNY0TyiNKfsqnyWEBd5EmOo2oAq09rZD/s1000/R0010388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsarM8I4aB9mjLsT0FVQ9Ag1Bh5qT0hUo0jyObD7mpIwdN7aMiD5Cro9wqq30x_Yu7SAklIqbSmgoxeU8v9Gk80SkjmN9Hwoxmo9mjhZVb7VoAswHrORo9WitZWQiLKODMpghMHj7aSE1ikfvXpM4os8TsC3CoBNY0TyiNKfsqnyWEBd5EmOo2oAq09rZD/w640-h480/R0010388.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nobody mention the kilt</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Following the successful scoffing of a Full Scottish in Ballater, I followed the Deeside Way for a bit, teaming up at some point with Emma and we walked into Glen Tanar to be interrogated by the Ranger. I'm afraid I might have been forced to admit to being a member of the County Durham Peoples Liberation Front , or possibly the Front foir the Liberation of the People of County Durham (actually, I am a secret member of the Ramblers Association) and I was forced to take an oath that I would not disturb the local Very Randy Capercaillie who could get quite vicious, apparently. So I changed tthe route to coincide with Emma's, which went to a locked bothy with two Yorkshiremen camping outside. Apparently, when they were little they lived in a cardboard box in't middle o't road which they had to lick clean with their tongues every morning before working 28 hours down t'pit. Anyway it was windy and nobody made any kilt-based remarks.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The came Tarfside. In a previous year, I had almost walked out of the hostel at Tarfside when there was an anti-kilt pile-on during which skirt-wearing men's masculinity was challenged. I expected the same and, my plan was not to stay there anyway - mainly because of the pile-on, I would say. I went in anyway and was met with "Oooh look its that man in a frock again gigggle giggle hehehehehe". No names, no pack drill, but expected. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Its childish stuff, but I found that in Scotland, its not all that unusual to encounter the kilt on a man and most people I met, including yoofs, who you have thought the most likely to take the mickey, were very complementary. Its just the odd eeeejit, and it's very very annoying.</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> and I walked straight out again and marched off down Glen Esk, to find a lovely spot by the river and leaving me with only a short day the next morning....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">....Which was to Edzell, where it was steaming hot and the pub was closed. Eventually it filled up with TGO challengers, including Sir Dave, the beaver. Its a long and heart-warming story which I guess has been told elsewhere.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The walk finished at St Cyrus, where the pub was open and nobody said anything bad about the kilt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The final pic, below is Sir Dave receiving his accolades at the Challenge dinner.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcUBBNywHKoynFqAuIx56xoEjXBGJhrPQxYBesQADwt3hYVqh7lfszkW4g7pks569G_93TYCqFSPZNUH36jl1zXVrYWGAz7SqkAKpAnATVGeNoM5Yk15FtKLOqeixt2sGtytD_As-rRjWZqoJElPuRwP0f_-Md_L7RGjiSiJWcea-sxdKYjNe90SCCuGS/s1000/R0010389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcUBBNywHKoynFqAuIx56xoEjXBGJhrPQxYBesQADwt3hYVqh7lfszkW4g7pks569G_93TYCqFSPZNUH36jl1zXVrYWGAz7SqkAKpAnATVGeNoM5Yk15FtKLOqeixt2sGtytD_As-rRjWZqoJElPuRwP0f_-Md_L7RGjiSiJWcea-sxdKYjNe90SCCuGS/w640-h480/R0010389.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-63977030472892597372023-09-07T20:01:00.001+01:002024-02-29T21:39:47.975+00:00Goodbye to LTD. Welcome to Ringo<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAwowQoDt0ppBJFJTOrVKhcwOMEe2OY0TUS4beOkqvEyX0vJxIOQnvIipTjolt3f6x1Ahs8W3zaG_P_GQ2jmK4uF54lhYqldcg3AsZtHhBAhGrg6RU3hAIIVh9r32xmqDWMkjQyhoJXAfNgMAMo9uXF4VqAAsPy5Bd47sIlAvQxVI8jn7_5idOxFPd741/s1000/snowdog%20011.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAwowQoDt0ppBJFJTOrVKhcwOMEe2OY0TUS4beOkqvEyX0vJxIOQnvIipTjolt3f6x1Ahs8W3zaG_P_GQ2jmK4uF54lhYqldcg3AsZtHhBAhGrg6RU3hAIIVh9r32xmqDWMkjQyhoJXAfNgMAMo9uXF4VqAAsPy5Bd47sIlAvQxVI8jn7_5idOxFPd741/s1000/snowdog%20011.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8keAHJKALIgEsjBYf-uZpK68Is_evzt8pKdRVgph1fHeMppNM3NTGMbXILj-bawVzwH-LAyvDX_MG6bhM_uHLU-g6TPGKIngTjmWN0Nn1ueOC607mTzb0--HHm-FPoV3EqgX1_LUC-BslKlQcJt0BmwX257AHzV2w97ceZ4--zeR_4GOQ3OQGiQbZqpc/s1000/snowdog%20011.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8keAHJKALIgEsjBYf-uZpK68Is_evzt8pKdRVgph1fHeMppNM3NTGMbXILj-bawVzwH-LAyvDX_MG6bhM_uHLU-g6TPGKIngTjmWN0Nn1ueOC607mTzb0--HHm-FPoV3EqgX1_LUC-BslKlQcJt0BmwX257AHzV2w97ceZ4--zeR_4GOQ3OQGiQbZqpc/w640-h480/snowdog%20011.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately Blogger's functionality is getting worse, which is a big shame for this particular post. Anyway, I will try to soldier on and see what is produced in the end. The preview suggets that the pictures are all over the place and one has randomly disappeared.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fans of LTD (Lucky The Dog) may well be upset that he had to be euthanised in July. I noticed, sometime in June that he was getting lethargic and just after a routine visit to the vet he was collapsing and fitting. Various medicines were tried and, in the end some steroids returned him to normality for a few weeks. But the fits began again and he became very fragile and unable to walk very far.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had a final wild camp to Druridge Bay but in the morning he was clearly struggling to walk back to the car. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">After more fits, he made the final journey to the vet.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQW0e1cUJhvfZdcwkAdIT29PTiEaiBQPce8YeBDp0s-T-h45sHXjCJFWug-r4CMU-R7Aso8Wo2fjtoGJ7qqn_NJmECd1ivRbY1ZhUummw5sf-kPBnXDDk0ahdzGmvRbT1ES45GJ7EL85OEd2-gyFk_L4grcVpGTVKGD0HKK-4dFLfFx6IHyDYMi5dJKQJ/s1000/ingram%20valley%20008.JPG" style="display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQW0e1cUJhvfZdcwkAdIT29PTiEaiBQPce8YeBDp0s-T-h45sHXjCJFWug-r4CMU-R7Aso8Wo2fjtoGJ7qqn_NJmECd1ivRbY1ZhUummw5sf-kPBnXDDk0ahdzGmvRbT1ES45GJ7EL85OEd2-gyFk_L4grcVpGTVKGD0HKK-4dFLfFx6IHyDYMi5dJKQJ/w629-h376/ingram%20valley%20008.JPG" width="629" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">LTD had been my dog since August 2014. He'd bagged more than 1000 hills and been on many backpacking trips. He specially enjoyed the bits of camping that involved snuggling in his woofbag and not really doing much else until it was time to pack up and go - and he was often a bit reluctant to leave his bed.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was a friendly dog, except to other dogs, who sometimes got too close. And he hated water and would walk around puddles. There was never any chance of him swimming other than by accident. Apart from attacking other dogs, he was no bother at all.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCBsVD6T0wwBB_Q7-gH0JA2KRdZTNhQnvoIww-4dT4p8ad1NqEFCYqgevHnJDA4Z_Dz1Vt7MSE4UK1Yr0SrDNC5Vt0sgxFsmttwA9_2kciqMAtg0o69Z9f9qUtdf0eEq7-Aqhhnmvxrkz7snIsBSKnCp5mXloXBOFRopIXFTewGBvpC8NOMZcg6SiBLCo/w614-h450/moniaive%20025.JPG" width="614" /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">And then came Ringo. Ringo is a border collie and a failed farm dog. He came from a farm in South Tynedale, just a bit North of Alston. I don't know why he failed. He's very playful and inquisitive and we're slowly forming a team. At the moment his walking on a lead is hard work but he's very friendly, even to other dogs, which is a Good Thing and a nice change.</span><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnM2Kbt5M3vnuyEi9I2lLhhEQ2PNAFo1puzk1X1eYH1WWVW0KwA7crmjUKSyz02vK1kAVGtgjJ87CDIRLR7RDHzQ5_X7ZUd6ay7zurIqzCtWpLyTj5F8YvLDyyPcqqOq1l8voFuvM3cPMtl6qu-JPrVQixocYbfkqQgWE4kZhmdRtRU8rKV40zT1gVkOtW/s1000/R0010588.JPG" style="display: inline !important; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnM2Kbt5M3vnuyEi9I2lLhhEQ2PNAFo1puzk1X1eYH1WWVW0KwA7crmjUKSyz02vK1kAVGtgjJ87CDIRLR7RDHzQ5_X7ZUd6ay7zurIqzCtWpLyTj5F8YvLDyyPcqqOq1l8voFuvM3cPMtl6qu-JPrVQixocYbfkqQgWE4kZhmdRtRU8rKV40zT1gVkOtW/w608-h450/R0010588.JPG" width="608" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzQfbSdBzgR3E8-OaxMKRxrSpE69M7HTqnE079fOR5M5pfe39e4ngX8PASEabTnNOsNmHHMkK0Ptbw22Ti6sv3DhdXO-TYPo3V_CRThZwKAkwIUywXQt65P61DCQOntbOMtZKZ-AP5uHjCbaEAYg-wKcgWWvcKOz14KyBzHRMVB2wHAA5sLAcesqK6_y5/s5184/R0010791.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzQfbSdBzgR3E8-OaxMKRxrSpE69M7HTqnE079fOR5M5pfe39e4ngX8PASEabTnNOsNmHHMkK0Ptbw22Ti6sv3DhdXO-TYPo3V_CRThZwKAkwIUywXQt65P61DCQOntbOMtZKZ-AP5uHjCbaEAYg-wKcgWWvcKOz14KyBzHRMVB2wHAA5sLAcesqK6_y5/s600/R0010791.JPG" width="600" /></a></div>One of us will die first. The nature of these things is that, if you have a dog, and you get attached to the pooch, that almost inevitably the dog will be the first to go and that you will grieve. Grief is the tax to be paid on love. I'm beginning to believe that it isn't a negative emotion at all, no matter how uncomfortable it is at the time. <br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">I hope that, in time, I will grieve for Ringo, although at my advanced age, there's a chance that it will be the other way around. Maybe we can both slip into dotage together and neither of us will be capable of recognising that one of us has gone.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCasbJLQKlREH50bMG4qL6sjlzStRL2QzDyG1665GmV5ISN9mR6Me-iVWtoDRWHzlMm1yVmAhmN90E1zk8tRoO_1gZaav3Th6VdviQyOsXlGAxPHbbZXhhSmBYr-1Jeynk1iA-_Q4OnI86xnxWUNJjGg0nC5kgpF2P6okTshIwbUtc6jJXT9DJjY2aKTki/s5184/R0010700.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCasbJLQKlREH50bMG4qL6sjlzStRL2QzDyG1665GmV5ISN9mR6Me-iVWtoDRWHzlMm1yVmAhmN90E1zk8tRoO_1gZaav3Th6VdviQyOsXlGAxPHbbZXhhSmBYr-1Jeynk1iA-_Q4OnI86xnxWUNJjGg0nC5kgpF2P6okTshIwbUtc6jJXT9DJjY2aKTki/s600/R0010700.JPG" width="600" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">Or perhaps we will be rewarded by the honour of being the subject of somebody's grief.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the meantime, Ringo has had 3 tent nights, bagged 24 hills , and walked a couple of hundred miles with me. I think we'd best try to get on with stuff whilst we can.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCBsVD6T0wwBB_Q7-gH0JA2KRdZTNhQnvoIww-4dT4p8ad1NqEFCYqgevHnJDA4Z_Dz1Vt7MSE4UK1Yr0SrDNC5Vt0sgxFsmttwA9_2kciqMAtg0o69Z9f9qUtdf0eEq7-Aqhhnmvxrkz7snIsBSKnCp5mXloXBOFRopIXFTewGBvpC8NOMZcg6SiBLCo/s1000/moniaive%20025.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a></div>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-91353326809406277352023-03-07T20:58:00.000+00:002023-03-07T20:58:25.927+00:00Ridge Romping in the Howgill Fells<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVh3l6rNu6zHIOijPR67kgfZ9DCADkIp30UzeRNb-ea9yNLOWJYZnAM2uZZ5-8JsnVG8FmQRRpopuQa9XdAtZCmxDjKeYYS_ONq3yRZ1HufyfQKBDI9fdoMr7AOKXkp09zKEOHPyCipAWfNMqedgp8HLSHxV1t5Moe3ufmZSqyB334gRFKmLDtTULX4Q/s1000/DSC02419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVh3l6rNu6zHIOijPR67kgfZ9DCADkIp30UzeRNb-ea9yNLOWJYZnAM2uZZ5-8JsnVG8FmQRRpopuQa9XdAtZCmxDjKeYYS_ONq3yRZ1HufyfQKBDI9fdoMr7AOKXkp09zKEOHPyCipAWfNMqedgp8HLSHxV1t5Moe3ufmZSqyB334gRFKmLDtTULX4Q/w640-h480/DSC02419.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ridge Romping In The Mind in a Suntrap on Kensgriff</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I will admit to dozing off at lunch. The ground was frozen and the wind nithered in a particularly nithering kind of way, drifting over the North Sea from somewhere vaguely in the direction of Bergen. So, when we dropped off the top of Kensgriff with the decision whether or not to chance the stupidly steep grass of Yarlside unmade, we (me and LTD) came across a spot sheltered from the brrrrrreeeeze and warmed by the sun. And on top of all this, a skylark was up in the sky being all cheerful and happy. So we (me and LTD) settled in for the egg and tomato butty and banana, or , in the case of LTD, a handful of gravy bones. As for me, I'm not all that keen on gravy bones and LTD is not a big fan of tomatoes. It was a lovely spot. We drifted off into cosy dreamy snoozy land where every day is a day of sunlit hills and happy larks. And, in the case of LTD, quite a big handful of gravy bones.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXoCoaoNtS9f9GwfVtE4FiUAXXH8tS2aUyNLZufKjK2Eyo12qyntqkWSheZ0SnqpMP8CNjqdpaskHqMTjJqDdS1i_LviGK3rZM1T1NejLvzZKyQdqFpWmKshZmKvJEITpzsZWhAslE2aqVf4Nma4bnY2HUQsuxaNQ632MJddWwhMN0gk8xY_TPq7kvw/s1000/DSC02412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXoCoaoNtS9f9GwfVtE4FiUAXXH8tS2aUyNLZufKjK2Eyo12qyntqkWSheZ0SnqpMP8CNjqdpaskHqMTjJqDdS1i_LviGK3rZM1T1NejLvzZKyQdqFpWmKshZmKvJEITpzsZWhAslE2aqVf4Nma4bnY2HUQsuxaNQ632MJddWwhMN0gk8xY_TPq7kvw/w640-h480/DSC02412.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who's that playing in the shadows?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_LhxCtNcWWCpm53SvBsQ7fpsZhDCksm5i65dLA5kaiGVGmTKB7EyT6z3CmtbdA4InXV_-IuWLnA0gu1BcnwikvMfQSINkMWWX_vDAmMuDW_Bqie6jXii7uZwuAMbKAmMyoMSS3p9PQz35qb823TMI9WQJWm4wsvUfRwBUW39HFMpuMNTm-9In_wiJw/s1000/DSC02414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_LhxCtNcWWCpm53SvBsQ7fpsZhDCksm5i65dLA5kaiGVGmTKB7EyT6z3CmtbdA4InXV_-IuWLnA0gu1BcnwikvMfQSINkMWWX_vDAmMuDW_Bqie6jXii7uZwuAMbKAmMyoMSS3p9PQz35qb823TMI9WQJWm4wsvUfRwBUW39HFMpuMNTm-9In_wiJw/w640-h480/DSC02414.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leathgill Bridge</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure how the decision to revisit this route on the Howgills happened, except to say that I left home with the appropriate map and a very good weather forecast and an intention to walk somewhere with lots of contours. I seem to have lost a bit of fitness over the winter and replaced this with some wobbly flab and a telling-off from a Diabetic Nurse Practitioner. So here we were, parking by the main road just a bit to the left of Ravenstonedale (looking North) and heaving our obesenesses up some of those brown lines that join all the places of the same altitude together. We puffed. We panted. We cursed. We coughed. We spluttered. We wished we would soon be at the top. And, soon enough, we were. We bashed on with heavy legs.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHCEcEN1HOI31o3dmvaX78aYADlJ4l1Gc6WdDsyL0lZY7b2YWU8LDxzq2RIpunDzNJTsW1b3nuV1BR-rfBP5kbIfS3FOmLbQt691KpdEBQOtFzIM9mT1JAvdvPhoLwoClRmBcg4qzm89Z9RuKKz8ZYD8A5owWZSLoZ2THNeZC1lWKm_f_psuUEmlf5w/s1000/DSC02416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHCEcEN1HOI31o3dmvaX78aYADlJ4l1Gc6WdDsyL0lZY7b2YWU8LDxzq2RIpunDzNJTsW1b3nuV1BR-rfBP5kbIfS3FOmLbQt691KpdEBQOtFzIM9mT1JAvdvPhoLwoClRmBcg4qzm89Z9RuKKz8ZYD8A5owWZSLoZ2THNeZC1lWKm_f_psuUEmlf5w/w640-h480/DSC02416.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD on the top of Randygill...er.....Top.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavmWBuull83pOmQEGaB3OnMIoG39Ma30ahAGBXjy_LAhUTdbM5KfZUmlkT5wQCWRbgZ9N5Nvd1a8dk9NTKQFJDerN1ct7tjMa5Rqrp-wnZDH2QsE_QUQtJVEMllCFJdNgZukm563S8m_a8pYAeIs2CXOtU9iPtjYB9FskBger0dLfwDLEC9FzCXsd8A/s1000/DSC02418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavmWBuull83pOmQEGaB3OnMIoG39Ma30ahAGBXjy_LAhUTdbM5KfZUmlkT5wQCWRbgZ9N5Nvd1a8dk9NTKQFJDerN1ct7tjMa5Rqrp-wnZDH2QsE_QUQtJVEMllCFJdNgZukm563S8m_a8pYAeIs2CXOtU9iPtjYB9FskBger0dLfwDLEC9FzCXsd8A/w640-h480/DSC02418.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fearsome iced grass shows the way up Yarlside.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And soon - well, not really all that soon, to be fair, we crossed the Leathgill Bridge and were stood standing on top of Randygill Top. A short descent and another short yet vaguely painful ascent of Kensgriff brought up to our warm and cosy lunch spot wot I've mentioned above. The decision to be made was whether or not to climb up to the top of Yarlside or to find another way. Through the gap between my boots, the climb up Yarlside looked Steep, with a capital "S". I've been up there before and it is steep. It seems to me that grass couldn't get much steeper and the now wobbly and achy state of my legs would see this as a challenge, if, indeed, legs had eyes to see, which they don't, of course. An alternative course around the hill to the left was less steep but involved more contours and a descent to the right would put me in Bowderdale and a likely early return to the car. We slept on the decision. The skylark sang away. The sun was warm and all was well with the world.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdagxV-2NY3MR1iHtV_ELeowsmg8EI9SlTqEJD9FquYUXYxDaAjNtZp7LONJ5l6ufBWqAMoY6LHdlI0mcJb5K_rOesbRoSNheo7zyWPXKmf55u5ba2u_FEziHQvGBFWkepEMNgHTwpuuvlWM9qlaNtNKlkDskItUpXkMcW1OISdfHGLyz_di7Kyw5dg/s1000/DSC02422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdagxV-2NY3MR1iHtV_ELeowsmg8EI9SlTqEJD9FquYUXYxDaAjNtZp7LONJ5l6ufBWqAMoY6LHdlI0mcJb5K_rOesbRoSNheo7zyWPXKmf55u5ba2u_FEziHQvGBFWkepEMNgHTwpuuvlWM9qlaNtNKlkDskItUpXkMcW1OISdfHGLyz_di7Kyw5dg/w640-h480/DSC02422.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top of Yarlside</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJE-GZ040ivNS1jEAjGV_9ycGFFvRX2n4aC33k3nnNqgMm69tGTYMFgjJnvxTFsrEijqmxVkEcB6BG4c2nNGwrFSH0gK-7qzKrfOJyuN-6_BuVHSY8IOWmFQRTHnF_l8tAT9wzZRnbvOpYDFBLfLEAns7NkKrjh3olQfL9cPBWT80Iefh1GLh-8NaJw/s1000/DSC02423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJE-GZ040ivNS1jEAjGV_9ycGFFvRX2n4aC33k3nnNqgMm69tGTYMFgjJnvxTFsrEijqmxVkEcB6BG4c2nNGwrFSH0gK-7qzKrfOJyuN-6_BuVHSY8IOWmFQRTHnF_l8tAT9wzZRnbvOpYDFBLfLEAns7NkKrjh3olQfL9cPBWT80Iefh1GLh-8NaJw/w640-h480/DSC02423.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cautley Spout</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I would just follow the path down to the hawse/bealach/bwlch/pass at the bottom of the hill and decide there. So that's what we did and, on achieving the bottom of the slope, it didn't look all that steep. The map suggested it wasn't such a big climb anyway and the skylark suggested that I would regret not giving it a try and I could always come back down. LTD wondered if I had any more gravy bones. So we set off up the slope. It wasn't too bad. At first anyway. The grass was frozen and there was a suggestion of slipperyness. The slope got steeper, but previous boots had dug some steps in the turf. There was scree. Hands and knees were employed and there was a very brief moment of wishing I'd cleared my internet browsing history before embarking on this, when the slope began to ease off. Eventually we were at the top and, dissuaded from hanging about by the arctic drift at the summit cairn we headed down to Bowderdale Head, an easy descent with a view of Cautley Spout.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVN1DlMqLucvGMDMxVzrsSgSrxG-Igus73r1vfKeDSI1fR_zAsAH8gkI3IvzyQlXPW9kePxn-RjOjg8FXMwIl6IiGrxi5x54kDTMePn8ZPc1GfC_QyQtqteI9DUYP3d3QDE-_JMcDQQrhi46CT8TeU9DY_UNfQBTZWu7wytQEXyFe8V7CAvuNxsLGXQ/s1000/DSC02430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVN1DlMqLucvGMDMxVzrsSgSrxG-Igus73r1vfKeDSI1fR_zAsAH8gkI3IvzyQlXPW9kePxn-RjOjg8FXMwIl6IiGrxi5x54kDTMePn8ZPc1GfC_QyQtqteI9DUYP3d3QDE-_JMcDQQrhi46CT8TeU9DY_UNfQBTZWu7wytQEXyFe8V7CAvuNxsLGXQ/w640-h480/DSC02430.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD at The Calf</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQXFtoL9hOZFBpoobSczEaTJl7voEKlcUllPId_Pca8g2jJy1TYYfxMB4SZDF8elC-da7doWRQXSaL2JhRtfGz98WzmcesDITIwdaUVZ7QvoeM-YsVQ4Dn1XcHuu4xNAk_c6vDi3XH6gpYufPHDb4fq8-Kz0HOnD9251nZ6eanzyoJL63aH_gQNo_pw/s1000/DSC02431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQXFtoL9hOZFBpoobSczEaTJl7voEKlcUllPId_Pca8g2jJy1TYYfxMB4SZDF8elC-da7doWRQXSaL2JhRtfGz98WzmcesDITIwdaUVZ7QvoeM-YsVQ4Dn1XcHuu4xNAk_c6vDi3XH6gpYufPHDb4fq8-Kz0HOnD9251nZ6eanzyoJL63aH_gQNo_pw/w640-h480/DSC02431.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If he hadn't scoffed all those gravy bones he wouldn't have been so thirsty</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Next on the agenda was a visit to The Calf. This is the highest part of the Howgills and my most visited - according to my log this would be visit number 30. Actually getting there from Bowderdale Head with legs who's opinion (if legs do have an opinion, which they don't) was that it would be much better to follow the bridleway back to the car and anyway, we'd all been there before and what's the point? I meantersay, what is the actual point? That's what they would have said, if they could speak, which they can't. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, ignoring the whingeing lower limbs and joints we suffered mightily and very very slowly up the steepness to the bridleway. This is where we met two walkers having lunch, so we had to pretend, briefly, that everything was fine and that no pain or discomfort at all was being felt and wasn't it lovely? After a brief spurt of effort, which almost killed me if I'm honest, we continued painfully and with harsh words to the bloody trig point where we go a lovely view of bloody Morecambe Bay with the bloody tide in. LTD cocked his leg on the trig. And serve it right, too.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x4Qi41IlZTMNbbervNY9Wh-0qCsq2RT9O4z_KwDny2iTxj1XDcAPn1Ve4OUnuuU1F2oHSSTNaPYOz77Azx-HejjnDJppNQ7pkph8DBP_D_qXyjX0Q7CfURDrG06YIRiJonFv5vBbodfEdxHahJTIwc39ajTqLk0oJqvZlQLRxho0saCHCWu2ADJ3Dw/s1000/DSC02438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x4Qi41IlZTMNbbervNY9Wh-0qCsq2RT9O4z_KwDny2iTxj1XDcAPn1Ve4OUnuuU1F2oHSSTNaPYOz77Azx-HejjnDJppNQ7pkph8DBP_D_qXyjX0Q7CfURDrG06YIRiJonFv5vBbodfEdxHahJTIwc39ajTqLk0oJqvZlQLRxho0saCHCWu2ADJ3Dw/w640-h480/DSC02438.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from a joyful romp</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cnH26n8EBo93a18IGg01DbsFrutjss7DRXcsDzaYcjTn_Gh9Cx5nMNxVOtDp6nqy2JpzLSh9AtggmeUnIgJV8x5JA_JTluUbp1vIwi4Ys9E4XeCfxN4HmXVPia0YuBgjSjxBVJFqiDLaN9FU_355pJ751CSAp_MHNRPgr4AyProhxk1oKCdcBkzquw/s1000/DSC02439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cnH26n8EBo93a18IGg01DbsFrutjss7DRXcsDzaYcjTn_Gh9Cx5nMNxVOtDp6nqy2JpzLSh9AtggmeUnIgJV8x5JA_JTluUbp1vIwi4Ys9E4XeCfxN4HmXVPia0YuBgjSjxBVJFqiDLaN9FU_355pJ751CSAp_MHNRPgr4AyProhxk1oKCdcBkzquw/w640-h480/DSC02439.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somebody over there just opened a bag of crisps<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And then , it all became quite wonderful. Apart from anything else, it was downhill. More walkers were met. LTD did zoomies and greeted them enthusiastically. The seemed a bit grumpy about it. They were going uphill after all. So we followed the path down the long long ridge North, straight into the refreshing breeze. We had the place to ourselves again. Mile after mile of superb ridge walking passed easily. This was, in fact, a joyful romp of a ridge. It's true, there were a few bits of uphill contours, which began to tell on the wizzened old legs. But the larks sang and the ridge meandered off in the rough direction of Glasgow. The bogs and other squishy bits were frozen and there were no regrets. 13 miles and 3400 feet of ascent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hopefully, I'm a few contours fitter. I'm certainly not any lighter just now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I once wrote a sort of guide thingy to the Howgill Fells - 12 months in the Howgills, published only in Doodlecat, by the redoubtable Phil Lambert. The version was lost a while back, but I wondered, during this little trundle whether I should write that again. It is well out of date now, and I think , maybe I could make a better stab at it. I started it in the September. Maybe I might do that again. I asked LTD and his opinion was that it would be all right, providing a proper supply of doggy treats would be available. I should ask the skylark, I think.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKn96YE0bA91wJ-BzBgFIJCu8hJd9P4-JSOuNPoXZKMagTSzZdh1H5mXiuP3uENAkjhXsfvKd4N_Cp4BLUSxZ9Jj2gElZh0f904Ae3H06Rjf7ZaHggW41HNMC4FYyanomguQFKCZ_0M26xHDzH63Fc6Qg9LqjiuVNRhPTeCLoBzm8sU4GcSYM1FsKcjw/s1000/DSC02440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKn96YE0bA91wJ-BzBgFIJCu8hJd9P4-JSOuNPoXZKMagTSzZdh1H5mXiuP3uENAkjhXsfvKd4N_Cp4BLUSxZ9Jj2gElZh0f904Ae3H06Rjf7ZaHggW41HNMC4FYyanomguQFKCZ_0M26xHDzH63Fc6Qg9LqjiuVNRhPTeCLoBzm8sU4GcSYM1FsKcjw/w640-h480/DSC02440.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-26865990468421424932023-01-11T21:00:00.002+00:002023-01-11T21:00:42.073+00:00Turn On Tune In Drop Out<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHWnMEUsggXMA384JPCo7ZWyEYSOcDLo79QmOuAWn29w06wn3KOmUaR2W9KNUTC_GmGtLzKuTI-OBod5ulHBNRmz9Z3BoYei_hoIzRiPUg6F4IpyNZfV6dBlo3g0vN-usu9znQPBWeJ6fO9r9ndDx9nJEapZ3tsDy0ZpxwOUU2Og_205DjSrIJMBgIQ/s1000/sunset%20and%20moon%20007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHWnMEUsggXMA384JPCo7ZWyEYSOcDLo79QmOuAWn29w06wn3KOmUaR2W9KNUTC_GmGtLzKuTI-OBod5ulHBNRmz9Z3BoYei_hoIzRiPUg6F4IpyNZfV6dBlo3g0vN-usu9znQPBWeJ6fO9r9ndDx9nJEapZ3tsDy0ZpxwOUU2Og_205DjSrIJMBgIQ/w640-h480/sunset%20and%20moon%20007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The usual thing to do in a walking blog at this time of year is to review the previous year and map out some plans for the rest of this year. Whereas I do have some plans (TGO Challenge (again)), bag some more hills, walk about a lot etc.), I'm not going to do that.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbpW3ItJuJXe3YoTCguVHfC_fq724X-eZ-zKbUxyYUr45-y0eydqMiBAoorOT8ss248Ir8QILQa9y_39UUyR28-H_p2_K1GFUaPlFWJWiSNA0CwMgOQVJ0lsdjewwaPLQjNCBlFaJJHb2KOHQcYioRHpORZyHIbSqwUcemTWBnm393h7eiEl2D2XzoVg/s1000/sunset%20and%20moon%20010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbpW3ItJuJXe3YoTCguVHfC_fq724X-eZ-zKbUxyYUr45-y0eydqMiBAoorOT8ss248Ir8QILQa9y_39UUyR28-H_p2_K1GFUaPlFWJWiSNA0CwMgOQVJ0lsdjewwaPLQjNCBlFaJJHb2KOHQcYioRHpORZyHIbSqwUcemTWBnm393h7eiEl2D2XzoVg/w640-h480/sunset%20and%20moon%20010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXr2m307mfXOGy0Yb3OwPlpgeNyQUyY0UI3KR-GnBmB9Lw6RCORHd33MVayOF06gGeUe5ErBBw7YMq94o5Mm4eidITuYKp6UD-gqIRkcZ1pho5AMXiplmsCUeTQOEXXaUxNxV6Eu2-Nyq3Rgm0O7Q9iJsnxs8WYe2aYEMTERmWc0qQU7PMLHk_1UDQuw/s1000/tgo2021%20050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXr2m307mfXOGy0Yb3OwPlpgeNyQUyY0UI3KR-GnBmB9Lw6RCORHd33MVayOF06gGeUe5ErBBw7YMq94o5Mm4eidITuYKp6UD-gqIRkcZ1pho5AMXiplmsCUeTQOEXXaUxNxV6Eu2-Nyq3Rgm0O7Q9iJsnxs8WYe2aYEMTERmWc0qQU7PMLHk_1UDQuw/w640-h480/tgo2021%20050.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">In fact, I'm not entirely sure how to express just what it is I want to express, So this blog post will be a kind of exploration of whatever it is that's been tickling my mind bollox over the recent Christmas period and beyond, in a retrospective sort of way. To put things into perspective, I am now 71 years old with a dicky ticker, type 2 diabetes and a lump in my thigh where a lump shouldn't be, caused by slipping on some wet grass a few years ago and detaching a muscle, which has now disappeared somewhere into my leg, leaving a bump. The leg seems to function well without that particular lump of meat, except that occasionally, such as if I attempt a particular contortion, it hurts. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I suppose the idea is that, whilst I've had a very long hill-walking career so far - the first entry in my walking log being at Easter 1964 (I believe this qualifies as a long time), at 71, as Mr McCartney indicated in the song "Two of Us" on the Let It Be album, "You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead" The "you" being everybody else and LTD that I regularly walk with. To be fair, it's more relevant to Lucky The Dog, who's future is much much shorter than his past. (This is what happens with pet dogs - he's my 5th or 6th) Basically, This Can't Go On Much Longer, at least not as long as everything that went before - all that getting lost, setting off on an unknown journey with butterflies rampaging around the innards, being too knackered to think straight, being hungry and wet and cold and hot... and all that......</span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIzyqRDQ5FHQlFX67gb3fvAGUQsBICCZlHRG6HyTK6UvgJFh5jYp8EfHjohJMC5pemYWeWG2iyjnfdg_YboljJpyW_NgKPmSQIeC41Z1FMjf9vb4qZQpWAX77RjmLUMrtfFeS3idS5L71CFJe7vXBOpuYoXaw6fbbQM6IUNaWy0gSDO-YfFdF2HLCVw/s1000/DSC01290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIzyqRDQ5FHQlFX67gb3fvAGUQsBICCZlHRG6HyTK6UvgJFh5jYp8EfHjohJMC5pemYWeWG2iyjnfdg_YboljJpyW_NgKPmSQIeC41Z1FMjf9vb4qZQpWAX77RjmLUMrtfFeS3idS5L71CFJe7vXBOpuYoXaw6fbbQM6IUNaWy0gSDO-YfFdF2HLCVw/w640-h480/DSC01290.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvNICRV63zUlikTS7dGDf_S6B1LhAFh3yp063O1h2anYrkjgn4FK65kGgRXq298NG2nIZvxGF4GR0aOFm-c8X0Mxy0w98kcXJ-PHGhGCpxoHQELcoOvjGkE1Nxg7g6McFzKqtcN60ZYIoDrMFSA-6P8E9x3AWpisysB3BE1Hbj2gvzQJo7DXyYrtPRg/s1000/DSC01298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvNICRV63zUlikTS7dGDf_S6B1LhAFh3yp063O1h2anYrkjgn4FK65kGgRXq298NG2nIZvxGF4GR0aOFm-c8X0Mxy0w98kcXJ-PHGhGCpxoHQELcoOvjGkE1Nxg7g6McFzKqtcN60ZYIoDrMFSA-6P8E9x3AWpisysB3BE1Hbj2gvzQJo7DXyYrtPRg/w640-h480/DSC01298.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">It's the time of year when people plan ahead and, sometimes, make a list. When time is predictably very short, a bucket list may be drawn up. my old dog Bruno the Superdawg had such a bucket list in his final few weeks of life, at least until he couldn't do any more. I'm not ready for a bucket list just now (phew). But predictable time is on a countdown, maybe longer than I suspect, potentially a lot shorter, should I, or the wagon driver about to pull out into lane two briefly lose concentration on the A1(M) the ability to wander up some contours could be seriously inhibited. So, Stuff has to be Got On With. And the stuff I'd specially enjoy getting on with, so I have come to realise, doesn't really involve anybody else, other than the dog.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQcym6Ubf6ou3BtBC8PrVruIFKcXwhuOEkxjRoIPG9axMk-nK26wKdyPQI-pTI-_RTJ6BNiwdcGDNVWDHMsifMbyEANp5Raq2V01J_00kbVumhX1ZJabidOGHjPBJtkx0FY3DQh1DT7AYbmIDXeKqybYfUrHGiWB_gyBdAVD5k0RKreNIZhneqyzD7Gw/s5152/DSC01806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQcym6Ubf6ou3BtBC8PrVruIFKcXwhuOEkxjRoIPG9axMk-nK26wKdyPQI-pTI-_RTJ6BNiwdcGDNVWDHMsifMbyEANp5Raq2V01J_00kbVumhX1ZJabidOGHjPBJtkx0FY3DQh1DT7AYbmIDXeKqybYfUrHGiWB_gyBdAVD5k0RKreNIZhneqyzD7Gw/w640-h480/DSC01806.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmdHTUMA1LyKCaCbfH96yMZEMS6-5NUOSXi3qHew1ZOvJHN5seTyK88I0VBKhOjP1lLMum9iTaOCgBa-4l6v-vNNtXXaz3EU8kAHooTULjrjjhnNSsU2er4XluJa6lzHFYYhy_uLUeM9tE0etE15jjmyEtPUB35mFjllH8u74BVqGb2zXYE1s_QkGOQ/s1000/tgo2013%20038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmdHTUMA1LyKCaCbfH96yMZEMS6-5NUOSXi3qHew1ZOvJHN5seTyK88I0VBKhOjP1lLMum9iTaOCgBa-4l6v-vNNtXXaz3EU8kAHooTULjrjjhnNSsU2er4XluJa6lzHFYYhy_uLUeM9tE0etE15jjmyEtPUB35mFjllH8u74BVqGb2zXYE1s_QkGOQ/w640-h480/tgo2013%20038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not going to abandon any friends or the Ramblers (at least not yet) but it's not really possible to Turn On, Tune In and Drop Out with chatter going on, or discussions about The Route, or people who don't want to stop and have a look at nothing in particular when I do want to stop and have a look, or people who do want to stop when I don't. And people need to be spared the skinny-dip in a deep, green pool on a hot day. Or people getting scared and twitchy when it goes dark. All that stuff.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3AVAsJuGp4dF907lT9p0GviFkPBgfCvNdsknlUYDGzI3CXZ9shx1Qqls8Y0Dg82pp1Vub9GfyfvNCWl5GHN1hzQQzMiehA9ddWfHafaMq8heKJeHJA3SnWLxihXJfbgdIyibPvxXDNzw-s4yYic4OZpSNiqALxgmpdiuYOd27sd2-1vcAkZNA76_jQ/s1000/weardale%20reccy%20and%20lindisfarne%20032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3AVAsJuGp4dF907lT9p0GviFkPBgfCvNdsknlUYDGzI3CXZ9shx1Qqls8Y0Dg82pp1Vub9GfyfvNCWl5GHN1hzQQzMiehA9ddWfHafaMq8heKJeHJA3SnWLxihXJfbgdIyibPvxXDNzw-s4yYic4OZpSNiqALxgmpdiuYOd27sd2-1vcAkZNA76_jQ/w640-h480/weardale%20reccy%20and%20lindisfarne%20032.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">So, this year's TGO challenge will be entirely solo and, should I be spared, and the TGO challenge continues, so will the next two TGO challenges. And so will the long, dawn to dusk walks in the summer. There will be much sitting about. Larks, meadow pipits, curlew and snipe will be allowed to entertain me and there will be snoozing. LTD enjoys a snooze. Snoozes near waterfalls are particularly enjoyable. There will be long, dark and windy winter nights in little tents, parked in sheltered spots, not far from streams of clean mountain water. This is what I want to do.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhRhln6XsmnD7Vbu1hGH8XJXtEYvVUckzYjL4umXPhrBJapZ81X3Izq_jIZauOEaDTcYaJmWp1tbTEzjYB3doeWan-o_-BZ1MXcuqfXgCiYQP5Fl9RSlhJ_cA0xDiLXjX7_nIzk7qxplFyxuji-crVNyQCeaB5TpHPWWwbgr7yTtCMA5Dmq_jAhYSkA/s1000/black%20mountains%20028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhRhln6XsmnD7Vbu1hGH8XJXtEYvVUckzYjL4umXPhrBJapZ81X3Izq_jIZauOEaDTcYaJmWp1tbTEzjYB3doeWan-o_-BZ1MXcuqfXgCiYQP5Fl9RSlhJ_cA0xDiLXjX7_nIzk7qxplFyxuji-crVNyQCeaB5TpHPWWwbgr7yTtCMA5Dmq_jAhYSkA/w640-h480/black%20mountains%20028.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">At the moment it's chucking it down outside, so the main motivation is to light the fire and drink hot tea, maybe, even have Just The One McVities digestive, as LTD snores and emits noxious gasses close by. But quite soon, I'll be off on a short backpacking trip, probably just a bit up Weardale. I'll tell myself that it's training for the TGO challenge. I might do a blog post.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9jlIepzDfG6D63i3Q9qBT5GyR1dFID5wKFUZ5nilONDkoby3UlGArLtaosL9BFteW6MsZP9TsVlz-VCM6SPe2BeJ2vzbLaz_fi7ClWeWOxiNrvw7PhN5Cn-WUoXiWDnUstfekLw4ScqazR33R9H7-MsLIcen94weRKfnUPXL5QiQFcQp0AX1LcPb5Q/s1000/crook%20west%20001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9jlIepzDfG6D63i3Q9qBT5GyR1dFID5wKFUZ5nilONDkoby3UlGArLtaosL9BFteW6MsZP9TsVlz-VCM6SPe2BeJ2vzbLaz_fi7ClWeWOxiNrvw7PhN5Cn-WUoXiWDnUstfekLw4ScqazR33R9H7-MsLIcen94weRKfnUPXL5QiQFcQp0AX1LcPb5Q/w640-h480/crook%20west%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-3300626505565614842022-11-07T22:19:00.000+00:002022-11-07T22:19:07.647+00:00The Sound of Silence (Taking LTD Away From Fireworks)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAO9daTI1MssgC73xITurmaVNU5JSr7RGwiz3PiJp5454oR-1EN1BjLU62pjOKUfU5_T6Hr4tF46ltUnD7lE3S7mTFFmjumXvctcuau9LMsazoJyX2InHWuG0tS0fltoBdvx7ZnaYLOAafw6CO7wQWBIQNDI-8SuYc1KwsYhkmgMQrEyokTkZc8Bu7g/s1200/DSC02126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAO9daTI1MssgC73xITurmaVNU5JSr7RGwiz3PiJp5454oR-1EN1BjLU62pjOKUfU5_T6Hr4tF46ltUnD7lE3S7mTFFmjumXvctcuau9LMsazoJyX2InHWuG0tS0fltoBdvx7ZnaYLOAafw6CO7wQWBIQNDI-8SuYc1KwsYhkmgMQrEyokTkZc8Bu7g/w640-h360/DSC02126.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">LTD is scared of the noise of fireworks. He's also scared of the noise of war films and documentaries, especially those involving the whistling of dropping bombs. He doesn't know where to hide and it all gets a bit frantic. So, every year, around Gunpowder Treason and Plot time, I take him as far away from the chance of hearing bangers or rockets or roman candles or any other kind of whizz-bang as possible and this provides an ideal excuse to find a quiet spot and camp-out for a night or two. In previous years, others have joined me, but this year it was just me and the dawg.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_DoGtkrAksujtazEBqa_UTgGC3UC0y7R8gN1_8X8vHfR-4KiIwGUv2VzraIeIu7Rd8SyyvDcNr8dZenXNevBSErdJYeqF0CZ3I448TvTtIN-kOgR2rICN1LM-Hwdsu2a4M_WO3nhxqqo3c9ALcQ3tDzlGgssv_EKU_Ydw8gXzrs7rTW8oaYfVxJowQ/s1250/DSC02127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_DoGtkrAksujtazEBqa_UTgGC3UC0y7R8gN1_8X8vHfR-4KiIwGUv2VzraIeIu7Rd8SyyvDcNr8dZenXNevBSErdJYeqF0CZ3I448TvTtIN-kOgR2rICN1LM-Hwdsu2a4M_WO3nhxqqo3c9ALcQ3tDzlGgssv_EKU_Ydw8gXzrs7rTW8oaYfVxJowQ/w640-h360/DSC02127.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I doubt if I need to detail exactly where this year's camp was, so I won't. I will say that the walk-in took just about two hours. A shorter walk-in is possible, I would have thought. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, Friday afternoon I erected my tabernacle close to a wall in anti.........cipation of November gales (which didn't arrive) , settled the dog into his woofbag (by Chrissie Crowther - look it up and get one for your camping pooch!) and put the kettle on. In the chill of the supposedly mild late autumn, we were both soon snuggled in our respective bags - I'd brought an extra snugpack thermal blanket for extra thermal retention of therms.. or whatever they are (look, I'm not a scientist, innit?) - which I could put over both of us. And for the following night, the next day, and most of Sunday morning, this is pretty much where we stayed, apart from the odd foray into the rain and dark for a wee or to get more water for the water bag.<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyawFEJG0cnhSSHeB7lp2jramqqCKxM5Idm97izddsZJ6UqSWJF5vvvBHPkio5feUfi-ojNwEYLm3UxQE8maQke35iOmeu8qoTt9dZW713kfjtz68SM2I3oWaF7bsCapWZNg-TUfq_hM6fUwGuakEdem7JqijWzB6s-tIBfqBzwx3Ri6oJ1DHb2McQeQ/s1250/DSC02133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyawFEJG0cnhSSHeB7lp2jramqqCKxM5Idm97izddsZJ6UqSWJF5vvvBHPkio5feUfi-ojNwEYLm3UxQE8maQke35iOmeu8qoTt9dZW713kfjtz68SM2I3oWaF7bsCapWZNg-TUfq_hM6fUwGuakEdem7JqijWzB6s-tIBfqBzwx3Ri6oJ1DHb2McQeQ/w640-h360/DSC02133.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And what happened, I hear you probably ask if you've managed to read this far without drifting off into a reverie. Well, nothing happened. I had a significant amount of food (still too scared to approach the bathroom scales), I had the radio - with just Radio 4 and RTE - RTE has better music by the way - and I had a Famous Five Go Hiking book, which didn't take much effort to read, I must say. I should explain that my reading addiction from the age of about seven and a quarter and two days, was Just William and the Outlaws. I had qualified in Enid Blyton from Noddy and Big Ears, but never progressed to the Famous Five so I felt the need to find out what I had missed. I have to say that Richmal Crompton was a much more challenging writer for a sub-eleven year old boy, with much more believable plots, humour and stories just long enough to be read between the hours (hour) of putting on the jimmies and drifting off into snoozy-sleepy-dreamyland under the covers with a torch which could also provide a red or green light at the touch of a little lever on the side.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">LTD had his usual kibble and doggy food, plus some bits of dried duck (don't ask), bonios and dentasticks. He amused himself by snoring, groaning with pleasure at the sheer luxury of his nest and farting very quietly but with devastating effect.<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK381HPnYOCNp04-zfVKW6CwMkA-x3vOFn96jMD7KpESWbhlafBf5t7HeMK1PEXXbwnqAlTJ58TrI6S4LiugPdbz2K_s1yzWh_jOLsXJJMX_glgdGQt7e4VrezKuKro4AALytf5gZTHOpE2GHebbHq__h3etdpJ5OCbP4JQkujGnB0L-EvKdu4QZjP8g/s1250/DSC02136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK381HPnYOCNp04-zfVKW6CwMkA-x3vOFn96jMD7KpESWbhlafBf5t7HeMK1PEXXbwnqAlTJ58TrI6S4LiugPdbz2K_s1yzWh_jOLsXJJMX_glgdGQt7e4VrezKuKro4AALytf5gZTHOpE2GHebbHq__h3etdpJ5OCbP4JQkujGnB0L-EvKdu4QZjP8g/w640-h360/DSC02136.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I was parked next to a stile on a path to a popular spot, but a path which was very quiet - just one group of 3 on Friday and 2 people of Saturday. The poor weather and clag on the hills was, no doubt keeping people away. On Sunday morning, about three hundred metres away, downstream, seven or eight tents had appeared. They had, apparently, arrived during the night and consisted of what seemed to be a school group with two instructors. They used the stile in the morning and the instructors were chatty and friendly. I had no idea they were there and were showing no lights when , at some point in the wee small hours, me and LTD felt the need to nip out. Wee small hours, though eh?</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqdLJqpgI3gBH5nP9yqUJSNp24IUjp21_vNeDe48RAPx70bQDuFjFG5U7rrr6HZ2L_EBRkbie400I-AjbX8AyYKCWEe0iNFhRi3CiZIOWTxR4sUi82ddImhNVGG0d53AMpmjK3ivqHiWPbYxkhmJBUnWv0C9bhPORcdB7sMPRjtNfFTRQ9uhrRQIn6OQ/s1250/DSC02137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqdLJqpgI3gBH5nP9yqUJSNp24IUjp21_vNeDe48RAPx70bQDuFjFG5U7rrr6HZ2L_EBRkbie400I-AjbX8AyYKCWEe0iNFhRi3CiZIOWTxR4sUi82ddImhNVGG0d53AMpmjK3ivqHiWPbYxkhmJBUnWv0C9bhPORcdB7sMPRjtNfFTRQ9uhrRQIn6OQ/w640-h360/DSC02137.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">In between all of this, there was, apparently, nothing. The beck was in a lively mood due to all the rain and was providing a white-noise which blanked most everything else out. Maybe somebody fired a shotgun on Friday night. A fox barked high up in the crags. The silent moon came out for a bit and was light enough to walk without a headlight, should the notion of walking anywhere arise, which it didn't. I did open the tent doors, though, to watch the sky. And at one point a shooting star moved from Outer space in the approximate direction of Barnard Castle. And the wind moved. And the dog snored and growled. And the radio became faint and crackly and irritating. So we both drifted away into some kind of half-dream state for hours and hours, whether it was day or night. Only visits by Mr Bladder forced us out into the weather.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkOj3y_G9NwhRkAj4QpjQInjL4ZNl8NFXFtFDdyQJIPHtUh8jj1ZLJ_ktOwaWlfiNfzDS7DX00VSnZqMOqt7Ia6iP198SEP1A2gk2PKfzpwpubHUnDuZ0Zo5kPsNVmJoa8J8_Jxrlr2V0NM3AZPXj_1JXZs4ZfvldKcB6KJT4du1vwjrsrF9C3hkuIA/s1250/DSC02138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkOj3y_G9NwhRkAj4QpjQInjL4ZNl8NFXFtFDdyQJIPHtUh8jj1ZLJ_ktOwaWlfiNfzDS7DX00VSnZqMOqt7Ia6iP198SEP1A2gk2PKfzpwpubHUnDuZ0Zo5kPsNVmJoa8J8_Jxrlr2V0NM3AZPXj_1JXZs4ZfvldKcB6KJT4du1vwjrsrF9C3hkuIA/w640-h360/DSC02138.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">There was no boredom. In the end I could have stayed longer But I pretty much ran out of food. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, I noticed, or was reminded, that if you listen to a beck, burbling away, it has lots of noises other than the obvious. It has little thumps and rumbles and there's some singing there. I was once camped by a stream above Glen Tilt and was listening to music on an MP3 player - quite loudly and in-between songs, I heard some singing. I thought it was a fault in the machine, so I turned it off. But I could still hear it. It was almost like a choir. Tonight's beck had , apparently, some men gently humming a vague rhythmic wordless song as if, maybe whilst performing some gentle routine task. It was there all the time should you tune into it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not mad, it's everybody else who is daft, but if there is a reason to be spiritual, it's lying somewhere in the nothingness. I would call it silence, but when the wind moves, or a stream runs, or a fox decides to bark, there is no silence. If you can tolerate doing nothing for a couple of days and you are able drift into a state of waking-dream and not get pins and needles in your arm.... turn off and tune in.... Just an idea. (Probably not a good idea to take a chatty friend or a lively pup, though)<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3erYFwIxyRbYPpPKxGSW370v_9OJKqixWxeu9h5M-Dnw4Q3Hq5ygqElvfc82lYnjpdevl4XsL1mktn3fk8ZN-eOuWhnRWs8qfZCbxoeURLSvntfqt0JyswSCelTiVoQvBOodyakJtCKvbO5V-xzd2slt59CgFPuGxFLg6NGRbHhXkWg6bOeaoTFDT4A/s1250/DSC02142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="1250" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3erYFwIxyRbYPpPKxGSW370v_9OJKqixWxeu9h5M-Dnw4Q3Hq5ygqElvfc82lYnjpdevl4XsL1mktn3fk8ZN-eOuWhnRWs8qfZCbxoeURLSvntfqt0JyswSCelTiVoQvBOodyakJtCKvbO5V-xzd2slt59CgFPuGxFLg6NGRbHhXkWg6bOeaoTFDT4A/w640-h360/DSC02142.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-22935857238635696632022-09-01T22:36:00.002+01:002022-09-01T22:36:54.634+01:00Pieman's 2022 TGO Challenge in a kilt and JJ's Tent <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIg82lx1UoPAfDh7yzlEmELc6QFw953IYKN3aOQ0L9GL5kt4JCmyMmxHZ3CYh4Vv2FmfWyLg7s90w7NhZMbe0Az0go0aDzaLygXdhw3_M_iEXQkVHqE0rSLwpXNJCHVuTCfhyZFoqzs3Qf0louDFRfOMZdgnxAhWUdRDMIScrqBeKuAE9ZhMZlsI5Lg/s1000/DSC01496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIg82lx1UoPAfDh7yzlEmELc6QFw953IYKN3aOQ0L9GL5kt4JCmyMmxHZ3CYh4Vv2FmfWyLg7s90w7NhZMbe0Az0go0aDzaLygXdhw3_M_iEXQkVHqE0rSLwpXNJCHVuTCfhyZFoqzs3Qf0louDFRfOMZdgnxAhWUdRDMIScrqBeKuAE9ZhMZlsI5Lg/w640-h480/DSC01496.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">That were a right wet one. At least at the start. I met JJ on the campsite just a bit West of Dornie - specially designed in the route to add nearly a mile to the route. I got off the bus with a stiff bum after severalteen hours of travel. It were chucking it down and blowing a hoolie. It's an ill wind, though and, this particular ill wind snapped my tent pole just as I was brewing up. As the rain slashed down and the tent fell on my head, it occurred to me that holding it up with my parting (in the middle) to avoid a conflagration would be <i>just the thing. </i>I called to JJ who was deep in consultation in the tent next door. Or next flysheet, actually. He announced that he had to go home due to an unfortunate happening which it's not my brief to describe. So I borrowed his tent. We parted just by Eileen Donan Castle - he on the bus, me to take a picture of the castle. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Uk0nF6lQzoulbCx4zFcpUEOl752NuqdhMhCqNFAf2pmWogMI6T69OE2B9FkbnjtilxuJL2akQvGARXOv81TMbuUu140ZSvl8G2H4HuocnTp53LaZXAR7D6q-Awonmaq3BLuZe4Dlz8GSHSjMu6abi9BK9AaSIT1841Lxj90JtXhVbUHm7CGIqtBlFw/s1000/DSC01500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Uk0nF6lQzoulbCx4zFcpUEOl752NuqdhMhCqNFAf2pmWogMI6T69OE2B9FkbnjtilxuJL2akQvGARXOv81TMbuUu140ZSvl8G2H4HuocnTp53LaZXAR7D6q-Awonmaq3BLuZe4Dlz8GSHSjMu6abi9BK9AaSIT1841Lxj90JtXhVbUHm7CGIqtBlFw/w640-h480/DSC01500.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I wandered in the general direction of Denmark, which seemed like a good idea. The sun shone a bit and I met some Americans. Loads of Americans. They walked faster than me, but I took a shortcut as the rain returned. We met again later.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiNpxiTwZG9T-Y9afLdFkZTrW4fxXnBFKphQgQB1snlnxfkxCb8YzOr6VoZoPoNvxJ_JDz-BmLu9dKn03XQTi_L7ishDI_RRAVWT4VeE_2mCEAxpCNX0Z1iehmeOfJfpBHy-QkZ9jf2RyqGZk8zVvWv-zKsFeNdS-11Fn38PMWA1ovwVVaZew5f94fQ/s1000/DSC01509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiNpxiTwZG9T-Y9afLdFkZTrW4fxXnBFKphQgQB1snlnxfkxCb8YzOr6VoZoPoNvxJ_JDz-BmLu9dKn03XQTi_L7ishDI_RRAVWT4VeE_2mCEAxpCNX0Z1iehmeOfJfpBHy-QkZ9jf2RyqGZk8zVvWv-zKsFeNdS-11Fn38PMWA1ovwVVaZew5f94fQ/w640-h480/DSC01509.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlvRtWPe6Z1WEmnqCJsmH9Z3PhJTqjpG3d1El61to0KJARuyVa5iTXMjf88B4Ek3Qy_Yuz82SCA44ZthDEh1P92N4LVW9dD2S-QA674H4t2E935v14RmTw63IDb0acqde4m6uVRH1Oyj1bqQLs5qxc6pYFeFgtTr1Oqu5PqpmCVEkQZl9Bb8GQTVQ6w/s1000/DSC01514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlvRtWPe6Z1WEmnqCJsmH9Z3PhJTqjpG3d1El61to0KJARuyVa5iTXMjf88B4Ek3Qy_Yuz82SCA44ZthDEh1P92N4LVW9dD2S-QA674H4t2E935v14RmTw63IDb0acqde4m6uVRH1Oyj1bqQLs5qxc6pYFeFgtTr1Oqu5PqpmCVEkQZl9Bb8GQTVQ6w/w640-h480/DSC01514.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not going to drag this out, but, basically, it rained a bit and the sun shone a bit and the Americans wandered off somewhere else, but I found a nice breezy camping spot on a knobble (apols for the technical geographical terms here) just at the entrance to Coire Easach. This is not necessarily where I was supposed to camp but I was damp and knackered and a dehydrated chicken biryani and a significant proportion of my whisky supply was taken to cheer me up a bit. The view was quite nice, though.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIdRqYGEgZQNnDP3wB3GhWQIMhVMn7_Mt9Ygnw1YM-LDWQCmdOlLMb1CqN3dDV-Lai71wxjWKXKhvl8uFJc0aREA5YRx5kJwVfl38_dGWjEKT6aHGG_7Sw46BvG5UKCT0bwJfTcindBqJ28gruhNjy8CoMYQtQqyDErh7JoMUS7-ej3NjH3tfrqxAvw/s1000/DSC01537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIdRqYGEgZQNnDP3wB3GhWQIMhVMn7_Mt9Ygnw1YM-LDWQCmdOlLMb1CqN3dDV-Lai71wxjWKXKhvl8uFJc0aREA5YRx5kJwVfl38_dGWjEKT6aHGG_7Sw46BvG5UKCT0bwJfTcindBqJ28gruhNjy8CoMYQtQqyDErh7JoMUS7-ej3NjH3tfrqxAvw/w640-h480/DSC01537.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Just to say that the pics in this post won't really match the text. This doesn't bother me much and if it bothers you, I have to say that I'm not bothered. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, the next bit was a bit steep and quite wet in terms of the amount of precipitation precipitating on me, so I didn't take many pics anyway. After several hours of miserable slogging over some peat bogs through countryside which was probably quite pretty, I caught up with Sam and Ali and we splodged together as far as Altbeithe Youth Hostel which was closed. This cheered us up no end. However, the warden appeared and asked us if we'd like some tea. Then a resident appeared with some cakes. And as we shivered in the shelter of the North face of Altbeithe YHA, all seemed better with the world already. No, really.... So it rained some more and I sploshed on till I got to Loch Affric where some lads from somewhere or other were camping on their walk to somewhere else, so I erected JJ's tent by the loch shore and settle in for the night and a substantial amount of the next day. I was waiting for the weather to clear, see? Did it though? Did it buggery. So, wind-assisted, I continued through the afternoon, meeting a soggy Sam Hackett once again, but he put his tent up somewhere short of where I wanted to be and I put mine up on the edge of Glen Morriston. I wasn't bothered at all. Oh no...<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2jQR07J8bhSyreK3UJW9x2iP7AsWH6eiwvMq_xF09MP5jUouvoW51gfKkFpTiD3EUkW6rS1afzA2ggyw4VFJrfCFa2aGk_a0BnrZ3bJN7o2ru4aE238w_vbpiT5qJzgEEon9494ABoTD3imNSBURSz0lrjy8APcLGcLz07-2WRXpBZ5rO7B60UxPhg/s1000/DSC01544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2jQR07J8bhSyreK3UJW9x2iP7AsWH6eiwvMq_xF09MP5jUouvoW51gfKkFpTiD3EUkW6rS1afzA2ggyw4VFJrfCFa2aGk_a0BnrZ3bJN7o2ru4aE238w_vbpiT5qJzgEEon9494ABoTD3imNSBURSz0lrjy8APcLGcLz07-2WRXpBZ5rO7B60UxPhg/w640-h480/DSC01544.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The sun came out. Oh no, was it going to be too hot? Would the fleshpots of Fort Augustus let me in if I admitted that I wasn't "doing" the Great Glen Way? Yes they would. I had a fair rehydrating session and a sweet potato sagaloo, straight out of the Hairy Bikers Go Veggie book and did some shopping before heading into the Monadhliath wind factory. I found a nice camping spot by a <strike>beck </strike> burn and battered on through the forest of turbines up on to a hill that I realised I'd climbed once before by mistake. (Tip: Never admit this kind of thing if TGO vetters are reading) - and on to a lovely spot just a bit short of Laggan. It was here, apparently, that I adopted Terry, the tick. Terry was stuck to my right buttock, but traveled with me to Newtonmore unnoticed until I spotted it in the full-length mirror in the B&B, I won't explain why I was <strike>posing </strike> taking some much attention of the image in the mirror. Anyway, I thought that Terry was probably in need of some important life skills so I gave him a swimming lesson. With a flush. A small part of my gluteus maximus glowed pink for a bit.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Me and Terry pressed on towards Newtonmore, stopping only briefly for a sausage in a bun and some serious tea at the cafe at Laggan. They have a parrot, you know.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> Newtonmore provided beer and some posh nosh and the company of Croydon and his daughter. And some shopping/ All was good. I wasn't bothered at all.</span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OeHlnMupYtPKtehu97kkyXCCoTgJ7rgb4bvxBeTuE3g3nEmGHxlLFUKNDK2V0Yk9U0PU9s2vyCdUFIt8lM0dv99OsghSpzO2V_nad7J4v9_cjm7DejNk5L3rzQzYP8OxNCWS3oNh1fbt0-nwfnsPRJv8J80G_bsqH0iXC9oAryKrA1GWWIdIcXW5ZA/s1000/DSC01550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OeHlnMupYtPKtehu97kkyXCCoTgJ7rgb4bvxBeTuE3g3nEmGHxlLFUKNDK2V0Yk9U0PU9s2vyCdUFIt8lM0dv99OsghSpzO2V_nad7J4v9_cjm7DejNk5L3rzQzYP8OxNCWS3oNh1fbt0-nwfnsPRJv8J80G_bsqH0iXC9oAryKrA1GWWIdIcXW5ZA/w640-h480/DSC01550.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Moving right along - I went towards Phones. There are no phones at phones. It rained a bit and I found a little derelict bothy with some TGO challenge graffiti in it by Mick Croydon and the late Pete Shepherd, bless him. The bothy seemed to be occupied by a nesting pair of chaffinches. I pressed on, crossing the River Tromie by paddling. bootless through deep and rushing water a few hundred metres North of a bridge I didn't know about. I wasn't all that bothered, though and marched on manfully, singing robust hiking songs whilst discreetly scratching the itchy red lump on my bum. (This is quite easy in a kilt by the way) I was confident that there would be no witnesses to this behaviour for miles and miles.... That night was the windiest so far and , sometime in the darkness (and there's not much of this in May), the wind ripped open the tent door and I got liberally sprayed with some very refreshing rain. I managed to wrestle it closed, though.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj69YQxVagkwsp2-22AzoNP4EAlSiEF9Jfc79c4KrQXDUI2QjehXSLms6AZWj_4XplKRfWNH_Ht03r15eTAxvuUE9DvBO0B0Vkri2OSQRumpYwObo43m1cae5-IYYIdgMWw6M6UWbXlvO7VX51aneXPdirBbvC7rYOKx6-ZIsYY2k-RiWNL8loBY_lu6w/s1000/DSC01571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj69YQxVagkwsp2-22AzoNP4EAlSiEF9Jfc79c4KrQXDUI2QjehXSLms6AZWj_4XplKRfWNH_Ht03r15eTAxvuUE9DvBO0B0Vkri2OSQRumpYwObo43m1cae5-IYYIdgMWw6M6UWbXlvO7VX51aneXPdirBbvC7rYOKx6-ZIsYY2k-RiWNL8loBY_lu6w/w640-h480/DSC01571.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv_iLnZchnuopjwPZYSvPWAAyI9MQgcmrDqSxJOFPgwErtXioX0YXexybzmIRqLEGA0SMX_17RqEGSg4BA3uDIEUIXixm9sa82mewu9mN1u9BBBIjqQC2qcoNKb3zw7ighoR8Vi6N0fv2K8CL0t_SeeRzCqQrMDeCHuIS6XmlV9rDDLv6k6VbKSZc1w/s1000/DSC01577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv_iLnZchnuopjwPZYSvPWAAyI9MQgcmrDqSxJOFPgwErtXioX0YXexybzmIRqLEGA0SMX_17RqEGSg4BA3uDIEUIXixm9sa82mewu9mN1u9BBBIjqQC2qcoNKb3zw7ighoR8Vi6N0fv2K8CL0t_SeeRzCqQrMDeCHuIS6XmlV9rDDLv6k6VbKSZc1w/w640-h480/DSC01577.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIepeG2hQ2S-HL60GuoKxz5GD6Rb_nPzbpvs7CdAvXmZH__k73GfKgIFr0W1Nt5d8KVQm7-pelMfOYgypArz2WoP8jbX5rmYoZT0dMtG5mEyPfEaodEq7njZ5scP5Lu6Zih3bjlMQWoOaBzuA7caL5YDwWzsvRMFCNNEIeX9Y7StoiApfoOxa3HI50ug/s1000/DSC01578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIepeG2hQ2S-HL60GuoKxz5GD6Rb_nPzbpvs7CdAvXmZH__k73GfKgIFr0W1Nt5d8KVQm7-pelMfOYgypArz2WoP8jbX5rmYoZT0dMtG5mEyPfEaodEq7njZ5scP5Lu6Zih3bjlMQWoOaBzuA7caL5YDwWzsvRMFCNNEIeX9Y7StoiApfoOxa3HI50ug/w640-h480/DSC01578.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And then, in sunshine, I crossed the deep gash , confusingly called Mini-Gaig (translates as "small buff") - confusing as there's another Minigaig not too far away. This one leads the unconcerned hiker into the upper reaches of the River Feshie. Its not very deep here, though. This is quite fabulous countryside and just the kind of place to wander through quite slowly, doing things such as sitting about, snoozing and listening to the river. It presents multiple fine camping places. Far too many camping places to be reasonable, as it happens and if I could be bothered, I'd probably write to somebody to complain that there's too much choice.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKwrA8LAGeDKM0cLYXE5SKPKqX4zd5Tq_pohaQRNw7fFt0enfvJlzT3vKP3A7pOT5onbQ3N1nJo5DCA5hBUl-8LO-1-amNkD_JC5m46r5J-1TbT6Wd-W3xEaqOtmYvIU9PLDIpc-3CPZDsLth0W7gXa0ZCvNCVZcoQPu_3He8smsxYMMgsm1XDANQjQ/s1000/DSC01590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKwrA8LAGeDKM0cLYXE5SKPKqX4zd5Tq_pohaQRNw7fFt0enfvJlzT3vKP3A7pOT5onbQ3N1nJo5DCA5hBUl-8LO-1-amNkD_JC5m46r5J-1TbT6Wd-W3xEaqOtmYvIU9PLDIpc-3CPZDsLth0W7gXa0ZCvNCVZcoQPu_3He8smsxYMMgsm1XDANQjQ/w640-h480/DSC01590.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, I camped a mile or so East of Geldie Lodge in a breezy spot before bashing into Braemar for sausage and chips and beer via the tea and choccy biccies at Mar Lodge. Braemar had a lack of sausage and chips, though, in favour of some daft soup but Farquharsan's Bar provided reasonably priced beer and good scoff and, in the end, along with various other Challengers, a good night was had. And in the morning the bothy provided a good breakfast and fast service for the queue of hungry challengers. Other places in the village have sufferred from financial challenges, it seems. And fires...</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, full of a new set of fresh calories, I battered on once more, along by Gelder Shiel bothy and over the hump to Loch Muic, finding a lovely, sheltered camping spot about a mile short of Shielin of Mark bothy, which was my intended destination, but which sometimes can be a bit grim in grim weather. Not that there is any grim weather in Scotland in May. [koff]<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqihcYFvJrG7tjFNOhQMTbMRD7SVvy0liL6lrYFMF1YyK4Q03Htzw8c4Js7SWfdr1KkQGbxRJR1ExG1mJesD1AdUeolMzQE93AoOzph-Ai5ofq_CPMlNS7zD8xIH43yJNlhTOc9sLU9RESXITT6m0s2yFHlgCOVKWv87sU7ct5Jv-WJEJwrWx4_a-NA/s1000/DSC01616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqihcYFvJrG7tjFNOhQMTbMRD7SVvy0liL6lrYFMF1YyK4Q03Htzw8c4Js7SWfdr1KkQGbxRJR1ExG1mJesD1AdUeolMzQE93AoOzph-Ai5ofq_CPMlNS7zD8xIH43yJNlhTOc9sLU9RESXITT6m0s2yFHlgCOVKWv87sU7ct5Jv-WJEJwrWx4_a-NA/w640-h480/DSC01616.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxV6C-aAp-cdiuXRpVSqS500weMwdFhabb90P7KxOIc2jdaU7mlRW66jY1wOBfiKsje6r5bs6plkKvbxmLAslTwVHH7SfiWqpyn41SCAHUw5IbD-dtsm6ScVdBnvMIbeTErA5sWO61GVLe1XEPX_521ApXrmAhxiNC2OsyeRU4o-apvZCT-sWSnBAlQ/s1000/DSC01626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxV6C-aAp-cdiuXRpVSqS500weMwdFhabb90P7KxOIc2jdaU7mlRW66jY1wOBfiKsje6r5bs6plkKvbxmLAslTwVHH7SfiWqpyn41SCAHUw5IbD-dtsm6ScVdBnvMIbeTErA5sWO61GVLe1XEPX_521ApXrmAhxiNC2OsyeRU4o-apvZCT-sWSnBAlQ/w640-h480/DSC01626.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And so, sometimes solo and sometimes in company, I arrived, unconcerned at Tarfside where I swapped some money for tea and a bacon butty and camped quietly on the camping field, to the gentle beat of somebody's drum and bass, which seemingly repeated the same "tune" (ironic/sarcastic use of the word), until the early hours. My tip is never go to Tarfside at the weekend. The Mason's Arms was closed too, but I didn't care, really. </span> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-DFWBXRKiilUjFMsHJifvUBjxQ4WbMhWhoUMa64pzaYQg0r6ryiHUQgvdiXfJqw3GhhVTJysH8_TQXSh22SuXUieZcrJz4f9bajZy0pc_ZCxIsD0Krn6xHBNfh04xbQAgHt6IQ17NngZ9DOK8_bXUbh-Bx2yHK5x5K-XNNrDzCin3knJ5Ftnwqc68Q/s1000/DSC01636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-style: italic; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-DFWBXRKiilUjFMsHJifvUBjxQ4WbMhWhoUMa64pzaYQg0r6ryiHUQgvdiXfJqw3GhhVTJysH8_TQXSh22SuXUieZcrJz4f9bajZy0pc_ZCxIsD0Krn6xHBNfh04xbQAgHt6IQ17NngZ9DOK8_bXUbh-Bx2yHK5x5K-XNNrDzCin3knJ5Ftnwqc68Q/w640-h342/DSC01636.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></h2><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It was here that I changed my route. This was a "<i>good decision" </i></span></span><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;"> and lead to meeting Sam once again in the Tuck Inn in Edzell where I ordered off the menu (that is to say, not on the menu) sausage egg chips and beans, bread and butter and lashings of tea. This was provided cheerfully and cheaply and was the absolute best scoff I'd had since my birthday last November. It cheered me up no end, in fact, to such an extent that I felt the need to celebrate in the Panmure Arms before pressing on to the campsite at North Water Bridge. The last few miles were of roads and occasional sea views where, once again I met Sam and we limped off to Charlton strawberrt farm where, in the tea-room they provided an egg butty and tea, with the strange addition of a strawberry. Its not too far to the sea from there, and not much further to the Park Hotel and the finish. That was my 17th TGO challenge. Maybe I'll have another go....? The buttock is much recovered by the way.</span></h2><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnD_gudi5EQZikuoFzKKxHzQpHKrvr1JjQtAe42o8yIQLkRcCrpEUJth0fP7dIOGCFvle7U9bTafrF9ZrQ4-j4uLVmZD3JmDZoaUoh2b3iE19EMG9bOoGOm2tlO-50KBDJQ0AECMTmQCDBEQW0WMkW7e5wVU3H_OXAXIxY7mHGPQ6-GIoMCI3NTABJGg/s1000/DSC01641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnD_gudi5EQZikuoFzKKxHzQpHKrvr1JjQtAe42o8yIQLkRcCrpEUJth0fP7dIOGCFvle7U9bTafrF9ZrQ4-j4uLVmZD3JmDZoaUoh2b3iE19EMG9bOoGOm2tlO-50KBDJQ0AECMTmQCDBEQW0WMkW7e5wVU3H_OXAXIxY7mHGPQ6-GIoMCI3NTABJGg/w590-h379/DSC01641.JPG" width="590" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><br /> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-86167175317257159222022-05-09T20:46:00.002+01:002022-05-09T20:46:33.603+01:00TGO Challenge Stuff Number Four<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59V4pmsqqw7hDNtTEHz9npbSRzBGq56_eNZsYYhRJCW_8J9HXd8vbmfuyWbuDAwUN0UEdaDTmPi_H6udugBRWiS0rBby50BudEqjVX5qMpSpMuGa8RgMZw4HtyihGfLneVD4eYdAHnLcA2Uq2F4IW3cuHCaqN8MXuJSJTdJ0wozyhwVDarkcmB4MY9w/s1000/DSC01388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59V4pmsqqw7hDNtTEHz9npbSRzBGq56_eNZsYYhRJCW_8J9HXd8vbmfuyWbuDAwUN0UEdaDTmPi_H6udugBRWiS0rBby50BudEqjVX5qMpSpMuGa8RgMZw4HtyihGfLneVD4eYdAHnLcA2Uq2F4IW3cuHCaqN8MXuJSJTdJ0wozyhwVDarkcmB4MY9w/w640-h427/DSC01388.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD is about to go to bed</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I have packed my pack and tried it on. It feels quite heavy and when I put it on, LTD follows me about. I have my train and bus tickets, I've booked a spot on the lawn at the Park Hotel in Montrose and JJ has texted me from (?) Fort William suggesting he gets bacon, eggs and barms for Wednesday's breakfast - seems like a good idea to me. (for non-Lancastrians, a barm is a bread bun. Like a teacake, bit without the fruit.) I will translate "teacake" on request.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, I'm starting the walk at Eileen Donan Castle on Wednesday. The forecast says breezy with showers. Breezy with showers is normal.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcAD54-83Spx-Bdp9doKa0CezZJa_2rxs_F_70L_P1grJms7gCBxPKlzmE2nejUzgVUqCnJrerdZhqp43HEt7pEF_RWywoLkzQeToGaPUaFUg67ZN9aucJ3UapFO6g9S9x8p3yee6sbMAqAOrnNoUHQqrGkH-CVZtNvIGV_oEG5z4WMxuigqrNu6XFg/s1000/DSC01389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcAD54-83Spx-Bdp9doKa0CezZJa_2rxs_F_70L_P1grJms7gCBxPKlzmE2nejUzgVUqCnJrerdZhqp43HEt7pEF_RWywoLkzQeToGaPUaFUg67ZN9aucJ3UapFO6g9S9x8p3yee6sbMAqAOrnNoUHQqrGkH-CVZtNvIGV_oEG5z4WMxuigqrNu6XFg/w640-h480/DSC01389.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A camp near Straiton</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhib_Cn3vXaW5vP07Nls4I5lkwnlLuR5rsQjCuTYgMX5PQnKqbnD_iefNUyA4iMbhfRTHQI5X9H9tWCZXZ-TcMm-dvPq3ZFbRqvENji8LmoM4z_9T64Px7d040M11zL8Zv1KN4Ak_BTtAl1J3Jwmj4RqBVxnAQxc1igYvAEqqtieaPgm6GUqyEVDB0xEw/s1000/DSC01390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhib_Cn3vXaW5vP07Nls4I5lkwnlLuR5rsQjCuTYgMX5PQnKqbnD_iefNUyA4iMbhfRTHQI5X9H9tWCZXZ-TcMm-dvPq3ZFbRqvENji8LmoM4z_9T64Px7d040M11zL8Zv1KN4Ak_BTtAl1J3Jwmj4RqBVxnAQxc1igYvAEqqtieaPgm6GUqyEVDB0xEw/w640-h480/DSC01390.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beck near Straiton</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidDPV77LTWEbJ3-99E6rtgz2ThzBcghbpP7TXb8Z5mHFNwlPUp-r5byh6v33u53R99bkrFEBeyyJ-b3bxi9JoFJoyCt0z2O1OfptqzoY3ok3w-F4SylocYbrJej9A9yuk-k0c5iut6ywgCGwsQUCjatqGI2a7SGKEjagiXFWcdhHZYrYtnkTYzIH6IA/s1000/DSC01392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidDPV77LTWEbJ3-99E6rtgz2ThzBcghbpP7TXb8Z5mHFNwlPUp-r5byh6v33u53R99bkrFEBeyyJ-b3bxi9JoFJoyCt0z2O1OfptqzoY3ok3w-F4SylocYbrJej9A9yuk-k0c5iut6ywgCGwsQUCjatqGI2a7SGKEjagiXFWcdhHZYrYtnkTYzIH6IA/w640-h480/DSC01392.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD is going to bed again</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Since the last post I had a few days in South Ayrshire starting from Straiton, where it's possible to park a knipemobile for a few days without anybody noticing. Ayrshire turned out to be not very friendly, though. Paths marked on the map were blocked by barbed wire and aggressive notices concerning Big Dogs and the local shepherds seem to have closed the hills down for lambing and twice I was told I wasn't supposed to be there. In contrast, a shepherd in Northumberland was very friendly and bemoaned lambs abilities to escape from lamb-proof fields and get themselves into bother. Another in Westmorland (I know... Cumbria...dhuhh....) smiled and gave me a thumps-up sign as his dog and mine investigated each others naughty parts. </span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iAAjFeyZmvjmSj7QTJwq0ApGjyEUbK9qf1gMvruddvUGbfRmOGuX8dIAkTuBMcV34V03S_jlPFSpJZH3HQFgL5Gxo1ul_2irrCNTyX_aaZoQ4OvWtn18_l9ah70VboC-IQm_NnTikRwzSzMKIrvFolwwVKw8UYW1Pm0jCFkTXseyb8EWxcJQZahwtg/s1000/DSC01395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iAAjFeyZmvjmSj7QTJwq0ApGjyEUbK9qf1gMvruddvUGbfRmOGuX8dIAkTuBMcV34V03S_jlPFSpJZH3HQFgL5Gxo1ul_2irrCNTyX_aaZoQ4OvWtn18_l9ah70VboC-IQm_NnTikRwzSzMKIrvFolwwVKw8UYW1Pm0jCFkTXseyb8EWxcJQZahwtg/w640-h480/DSC01395.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD seems a bit tired</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Other things didn't go as well as they might. After the first night, a very tall deer fence stopped me climbing my hill (not really possible with the dog and his panniers) - and, not long into the second day, and after much back and forth trying to find a way through farmland and fences and stuff, I came across a really lovely camping spot. The sun was out and although it wasn't far into the afternoon, I decided to stop. This meant re-arranging the rest of the trip. (by re-arranging, I mean, shortening. Obviously.</span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirx8rfenmKC1poYeFMENGcMLfy9WGgVbSIPLNBuEYYbvJBVR15OlqVun8cicRrWzkeKN8yYujE4YID-glrB5SfWqL-pn4DuvBSEjZlI0Sj97zR73JdNGNC262g7vhFU_yEFykIdp7pcag-c8owmuKECYKJO7vYg64ZRopjP1nE470eo9dCWOQSkZl4Sw/s1000/DSC01397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirx8rfenmKC1poYeFMENGcMLfy9WGgVbSIPLNBuEYYbvJBVR15OlqVun8cicRrWzkeKN8yYujE4YID-glrB5SfWqL-pn4DuvBSEjZlI0Sj97zR73JdNGNC262g7vhFU_yEFykIdp7pcag-c8owmuKECYKJO7vYg64ZRopjP1nE470eo9dCWOQSkZl4Sw/w640-h480/DSC01397.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGe-ruIf9zY4VGFUQCrrqkrNOx61mQ9Mvlyf4fKOikB5zAMkDePThaFgRubd8AjvTvUnbqb_nA82Rkj4-7EJSTR97VFqyqQHX5sZOsnUuoEWHa40vhDgMs9m54xXKXTsHpnuNSNowoKDqX3E0pgxwx9NhHJlKFIm4VkI9pMTrQbfQnKw98zaGdHxfQoA/s1000/DSC01398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGe-ruIf9zY4VGFUQCrrqkrNOx61mQ9Mvlyf4fKOikB5zAMkDePThaFgRubd8AjvTvUnbqb_nA82Rkj4-7EJSTR97VFqyqQHX5sZOsnUuoEWHa40vhDgMs9m54xXKXTsHpnuNSNowoKDqX3E0pgxwx9NhHJlKFIm4VkI9pMTrQbfQnKw98zaGdHxfQoA/w640-h480/DSC01398.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">At some point on Day 3, I noticed that LTD was flagging a bit under his panniers. He was also taking any opportunity to snooze. I lightened his load a bit and gave him my cup to carry - so I could dip it into a beck for water without having to take the pack off. And that night, in the face of grumpy shepherds, we found a discreet spot to camp. The sound of ATV's went on for a couple of hours and returned in the morning. So, not a brilliant trip. Much too short for me and. maybe too long for LTD. He's not a young dog any more. I'll just have to carry his stuff.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AvgpKtIROL814FDDahB6jFSUkSFUZ1Y-ozvTaxt8cEV0GyH7LyLjjCLpIGYjvY0Zhw6mZHen84xIoBlD2VLYaQczDmbRnP74brlWmGkVs3GLR0L0-Yfjo2ubjckcqLCeImSDdxww11vb-MEo1EK8lGJn0byhsBmssI5N97exEsRw3dnGMHeirh-yjw/s1000/DSC01399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AvgpKtIROL814FDDahB6jFSUkSFUZ1Y-ozvTaxt8cEV0GyH7LyLjjCLpIGYjvY0Zhw6mZHen84xIoBlD2VLYaQczDmbRnP74brlWmGkVs3GLR0L0-Yfjo2ubjckcqLCeImSDdxww11vb-MEo1EK8lGJn0byhsBmssI5N97exEsRw3dnGMHeirh-yjw/w640-h480/DSC01399.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwqVB3QZeB0KvU3Mf67_ZCYIf902Uv2pvQVRyXQ6dfZ90nlYWiab2omj8hlGqC3nCB7wFURfhB8sv2mbl496GSpg8cdrhfc4Y6fW8zOm1bNRtQqjFt5Q9UcZIyENqpmnnUGmuhN8a9V-a62XHSr7pkGKB6EOmt65iVJcmCF9GbSE9FAfvZZrr2e_JiA/s1000/DSC01401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwqVB3QZeB0KvU3Mf67_ZCYIf902Uv2pvQVRyXQ6dfZ90nlYWiab2omj8hlGqC3nCB7wFURfhB8sv2mbl496GSpg8cdrhfc4Y6fW8zOm1bNRtQqjFt5Q9UcZIyENqpmnnUGmuhN8a9V-a62XHSr7pkGKB6EOmt65iVJcmCF9GbSE9FAfvZZrr2e_JiA/w640-h480/DSC01401.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">But now I'm all packed up and being followed around by an expectant dog. He's not allowed on the TGO challenge, so he won't be coming tomorrow when Mrs Pieman takes me to Durham station. Everything is ready, including the dog.... sniff.....</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If I do manage to arrive at the North Sea (Stonehaven) - and these things are never inevitable - this will be my seventeenth TGO challenge. When it gets to 17, the possibility of 20 crossings starts to creep into the list of remaining ambition. (One of these includes being shot by a jealous husband at the age of 98 by the way. I've not mentioned this one to the wife.<br /></span> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyl_cTMBKbnp0lReHUbh0i319gTDLVEMc2ZD1KaptVGgkh5Feb_-uTXazx8FfQASgO3lCt26d74OnBGjHKwZEXKy9yLWCIMiMnq8y4iLDUz0JnK0khQTgUE-y0YgszhjqNmm-29W0vMdB8ERdiFOds04KQ6XKDyQMKny6IW4sqHtKs8k1HYWdNI1WSA/s1000/DSC01393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyl_cTMBKbnp0lReHUbh0i319gTDLVEMc2ZD1KaptVGgkh5Feb_-uTXazx8FfQASgO3lCt26d74OnBGjHKwZEXKy9yLWCIMiMnq8y4iLDUz0JnK0khQTgUE-y0YgszhjqNmm-29W0vMdB8ERdiFOds04KQ6XKDyQMKny6IW4sqHtKs8k1HYWdNI1WSA/w640-h480/DSC01393.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-17179213276699363412022-04-07T22:33:00.002+01:002022-04-07T22:33:27.068+01:00TGO Challenge Stuff Number Three<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqmxIagp7r3VtC0MUlMg6r_EpfEKEFyIeW-IQyidHuuIdjKqbEYyCZYZUf2ABzy8TBw-RNyLRIPJykP-X2xqRf32pq5kuxe5QVzkdwFnlW89_ssWyPTDYbdz_MxZnrorTDIcOqRARW2kDtlNJJyBqSH_OKhxbY_1Lp-b7vt8qwJ6WlK45CPQP1T8X5Q/s1000/DSC01372.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqmxIagp7r3VtC0MUlMg6r_EpfEKEFyIeW-IQyidHuuIdjKqbEYyCZYZUf2ABzy8TBw-RNyLRIPJykP-X2xqRf32pq5kuxe5QVzkdwFnlW89_ssWyPTDYbdz_MxZnrorTDIcOqRARW2kDtlNJJyBqSH_OKhxbY_1Lp-b7vt8qwJ6WlK45CPQP1T8X5Q/w640-h480/DSC01372.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Way to Hayfield</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">One of the things that happens (in normal times when there's no pandemic restrictions) is the TGO challenge "gatherings". There's two of these, one in Newtonmore and one in Derbyshire. This year the English Gathering organiser, Alan, organised a "do" at the Sportsman's Arms in Hayfield. This was good for me and LTD for several reasons: </span><div><span style="font-size: large;">Hayfield is a good place for walking.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">The Sportsman's Arms and the Kinder Lodge, where me and LTD stayed are both doggy friendly</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">and</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Chrissie and Geoff live in Hayfield and said I could stay for the bagging of Robin Hood's Picking Rods, a place that has sneakily avoided my attentions for several years now for lots of different reasons, mainly, pandemics and Derbyshire County Council's enthusiasm for closing the Snake Pass.<br /></span> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n-EjgLBz6tAS12RXLYyegmxPt6MFCY1DBLhifDBHA-aiv9jRvd5nJoqckiD6RTFo4-_xR6fY2ra0LGXtf2N8eRBFbaOHSbveUGrp22j0JZ1ycL7JFHjMSuasUZMTIpxefvND_KqaHL8IckX67CgXONRXxYdmupiOdSAV4ApnkwzXHHreIIgvCrJiFg/s1000/DSC01374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n-EjgLBz6tAS12RXLYyegmxPt6MFCY1DBLhifDBHA-aiv9jRvd5nJoqckiD6RTFo4-_xR6fY2ra0LGXtf2N8eRBFbaOHSbveUGrp22j0JZ1ycL7JFHjMSuasUZMTIpxefvND_KqaHL8IckX67CgXONRXxYdmupiOdSAV4ApnkwzXHHreIIgvCrJiFg/w640-h480/DSC01374.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hatyfield (all these pics are in reverse order!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfjhDFKg6-r2Eg_-qsbSbGG3fYh-WddbinTeG0nsW1St3tgCyPRgxC6mTIUrVtS3b_iM1lk_iNaliYos5xSLMn7fmpng7EtAId9lnGS5w-w-bVyr3TxAa6c0lRahT4bH3nEmSKzR72RwoF-1MTpiMJalgyJ3YTZk99uUn4Y7_6ner5t35loDIHq0nIw/s1000/DSC01371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfjhDFKg6-r2Eg_-qsbSbGG3fYh-WddbinTeG0nsW1St3tgCyPRgxC6mTIUrVtS3b_iM1lk_iNaliYos5xSLMn7fmpng7EtAId9lnGS5w-w-bVyr3TxAa6c0lRahT4bH3nEmSKzR72RwoF-1MTpiMJalgyJ3YTZk99uUn4Y7_6ner5t35loDIHq0nIw/w640-h480/DSC01371.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chrissie and Geoff and Pebbles and Islay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM8Pma8sbfV1LI1Yv9C8pMQ_TFGvccDKJSPqj0yAF8Amx0kn-ijWF5_JsQeOLOxuhs1WFPQdd3ccUAOZTf9pL92tM4W5OK13-H6pXz0bAI5ewrjEGOF9NpEJt0dMFod-Xh7sZYzJlzAGdjTCTTLX4m7vxsJTEZKimDdAWXfw29Qf6yi1RmK0DA_Rwdg/s1000/DSC01368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM8Pma8sbfV1LI1Yv9C8pMQ_TFGvccDKJSPqj0yAF8Amx0kn-ijWF5_JsQeOLOxuhs1WFPQdd3ccUAOZTf9pL92tM4W5OK13-H6pXz0bAI5ewrjEGOF9NpEJt0dMFod-Xh7sZYzJlzAGdjTCTTLX4m7vxsJTEZKimDdAWXfw29Qf6yi1RmK0DA_Rwdg/w640-h480/DSC01368.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragons Back Again. (where has he been?)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, the Gathering, for me, is part of the TGO challenge "thing", as is having a walk with Chrissie and Geoff and their doggies (although LTD is a grumpy bugger and did cause the occasional noisy fracas with the otherwise placid and, even cuddly, Pebbles and Islay. ) He's a pillock for that sort of thing, and, it's probably my fault. Hard to stop, though. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway me and LTD turned up at the Kinder lodge in the Friday night, had dinner with a smattering of TGO-ers at the George Inn (also dog-friendly) and in the morning we (me and LTD) went off to bag some hills just to the South of Buxton. The main victims of the knipey boots and paws being Parkhouse Hill and Chrome Hill aka The Dragons Back.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfooyGnfcLj6PeCrCIQvh61PaPNe6TlIVC46NINHt0f7LNb9Y-nFjQ4XA8buEHcpYPu35az-qWOhydiKk-aM9ikrUnMq5qjLBNw0276vwYaBr_myeLezfBRI6rjTCUW71XwAm4_aHLlqlLgKKZdadhj1Q_PPXQ49E_aH91-wdzKsH7ZQtbrUqZFQf_A/s1000/DSC01367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfooyGnfcLj6PeCrCIQvh61PaPNe6TlIVC46NINHt0f7LNb9Y-nFjQ4XA8buEHcpYPu35az-qWOhydiKk-aM9ikrUnMq5qjLBNw0276vwYaBr_myeLezfBRI6rjTCUW71XwAm4_aHLlqlLgKKZdadhj1Q_PPXQ49E_aH91-wdzKsH7ZQtbrUqZFQf_A/w640-h480/DSC01367.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dragon's Back</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs823UvBhhUkqyCqxOXv6A5ilM89LiWzrwmW2s6RDFMKEPOuLxr6sC5Q-_tSsgIf9CyJrrSg7Q9be3qs68Amy4OrUGQ5hF4iiwWN-AHwvdup9jN82AUFOAZdTJ6i-Sn9IZShETtC1Vg-jt0boeaXmrucj61oLbjfoK5bIbNF7VAoUR_1t2cPOLlfgQRg/s1000/DSC01364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs823UvBhhUkqyCqxOXv6A5ilM89LiWzrwmW2s6RDFMKEPOuLxr6sC5Q-_tSsgIf9CyJrrSg7Q9be3qs68Amy4OrUGQ5hF4iiwWN-AHwvdup9jN82AUFOAZdTJ6i-Sn9IZShETtC1Vg-jt0boeaXmrucj61oLbjfoK5bIbNF7VAoUR_1t2cPOLlfgQRg/w640-h480/DSC01364.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Dragons Back</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">After bagging the first two tops, and being unable to identify a permissive path to Chrome Hill,we found ourselves at the foot of Parkhouse Hill. Parkhouse Hill has a bit of a reputation for scaring people ..... and their dogs.... and, from the bottom, I was quite doubtful of setting off. Lots of people were coming down the narrow ridge and some were having little "adventures". But nobody fell off and I decided just to go up an bit and have a look. </span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW93BjPt1RSjVhsUyQ2EHiSF7I3zUlghrHEXkUTiB5aZRgeJiNKUmNeKrN0JoTXB8929coVtA1O7PfFNhavVpiTYzkkj_DRy47YpNB3pvcfzIbJf_t9x0pknVoUN87LRniDszjD6OqnxDwmVY7FncFo5O5SlX7zK-4mwRcSwlfvDwiWK_gp7j6pWekhw/s1000/DSC01362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW93BjPt1RSjVhsUyQ2EHiSF7I3zUlghrHEXkUTiB5aZRgeJiNKUmNeKrN0JoTXB8929coVtA1O7PfFNhavVpiTYzkkj_DRy47YpNB3pvcfzIbJf_t9x0pknVoUN87LRniDszjD6OqnxDwmVY7FncFo5O5SlX7zK-4mwRcSwlfvDwiWK_gp7j6pWekhw/w640-h480/DSC01362.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parkhouse Hill --- Ooooer....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnAkXoglh0RY-mRoVwRqU7VxNwyGB02eBNXlDgYsMOFIkVLgwZ3M2hlbT7uQdI8Af9C54Yhe2yhHM-8n5z6zDLddGXNXhE8s9CCx2y9x-PEWGIRGUsFAdDjVDnXsMW80gZ6BkTPtMNn9ZSNmejFWMhws94DJrPGkLAX_w4s1mVpVVeDc2nj88zE9FXw/s1000/DSC01360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnAkXoglh0RY-mRoVwRqU7VxNwyGB02eBNXlDgYsMOFIkVLgwZ3M2hlbT7uQdI8Af9C54Yhe2yhHM-8n5z6zDLddGXNXhE8s9CCx2y9x-PEWGIRGUsFAdDjVDnXsMW80gZ6BkTPtMNn9ZSNmejFWMhws94DJrPGkLAX_w4s1mVpVVeDc2nj88zE9FXw/w640-h480/DSC01360.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same place</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">It does look very big and spiky and scary, but, in fact, it's quite small and , quite quickly, I found myself in the company of three herbally scented individuals and their little dog and, noticeably, one empty bottle, an almost finished bottle and another spare back-up supply of strong liquor. They were in a happy mood and were trying to consider how they would get back down. They may still be there, who knows?</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyLtALb8sjeMe60T6HREafRVGO4A6llFqyrT3OqyenQ-IapqZuJwb8f-6jOREbE96f26SS51ZAk336grjbNwW2eTpw7aM7580Hl8Q8bFNPOCws-gUPOteUMOMWX3WxqgCsdyP82v6e18MIq0dsPhm8zkUrEXEaXx7PVwQMlNyEWvQTtYMZ_vxCAEI0A/s1000/DSC01359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyLtALb8sjeMe60T6HREafRVGO4A6llFqyrT3OqyenQ-IapqZuJwb8f-6jOREbE96f26SS51ZAk336grjbNwW2eTpw7aM7580Hl8Q8bFNPOCws-gUPOteUMOMWX3WxqgCsdyP82v6e18MIq0dsPhm8zkUrEXEaXx7PVwQMlNyEWvQTtYMZ_vxCAEI0A/w640-h480/DSC01359.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Infeasably steep grass</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIa793pZ4xd5bXmguslA8XFAROYWgLvv0PTW-zvmQzppdmJ68BQNH-WNX4IFielfQ2M-xCqXW-XhaL5mzwqiChk4GDLKgjkrLwDQvNIL2AWFO2T8iY1jIXYJDI40ir8lCcUDwpJ3iMWHd05VKEUk5WRiftfaeVnfIZTNtgGBuVQPBHWk2XkwAYAmDKg/s1000/DSC01357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIa793pZ4xd5bXmguslA8XFAROYWgLvv0PTW-zvmQzppdmJ68BQNH-WNX4IFielfQ2M-xCqXW-XhaL5mzwqiChk4GDLKgjkrLwDQvNIL2AWFO2T8iY1jIXYJDI40ir8lCcUDwpJ3iMWHd05VKEUk5WRiftfaeVnfIZTNtgGBuVQPBHWk2XkwAYAmDKg/w640-h480/DSC01357.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East side of Parkhouse Hill</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1W6FEjxsVhxvNmkoMgUsvtHxO-8q5GZ4DZFqqCB4-ikDy9G3niUCHpo_RQrnZ1jVcTmyEy_ynEObp9yUs2H47eNNnh8us6nBS7VzZobGRm5e84_47hagREE72QaNZEOc_JCw_Dn5YIDabRbMmCyRVm_pZcvLBKRvBetPel6MhrrQIKFjog7SUvNqRNA/s1000/DSC01356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1W6FEjxsVhxvNmkoMgUsvtHxO-8q5GZ4DZFqqCB4-ikDy9G3niUCHpo_RQrnZ1jVcTmyEy_ynEObp9yUs2H47eNNnh8us6nBS7VzZobGRm5e84_47hagREE72QaNZEOc_JCw_Dn5YIDabRbMmCyRVm_pZcvLBKRvBetPel6MhrrQIKFjog7SUvNqRNA/w640-h480/DSC01356.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD on the summit, yawning nervously</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Having got up, we went back down, partly aux-gluteous maximus, and went off to climb Chrome Hill. This was much more civilised and friendly and the permissive path was obvious. So we went back to Hayfield. The do at the Sportsmans's Arms was grand and friendly and the food was good and LTD slept under the table and was restored to conciousness by being fed quite a lot of chicken by a man from Burnley</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYd4OtQzSI7H5sLM6ctnSIcj5x086VYNoMzifSPR2j6nJaUPmi1faS09FvhFvhTUxV2bammHGUZ48dQG9RqrsT1i4dBtzXQ9eChw_q0QWVeg_0gHpoCp1MkCWGA3vC4hK2hq_x5ke-h8UCg9Pv39ZAgP0ib1TaIX5WWbb-PEN2fQFjSluN4XKI2hMUbQ/s1000/DSC01355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYd4OtQzSI7H5sLM6ctnSIcj5x086VYNoMzifSPR2j6nJaUPmi1faS09FvhFvhTUxV2bammHGUZ48dQG9RqrsT1i4dBtzXQ9eChw_q0QWVeg_0gHpoCp1MkCWGA3vC4hK2hq_x5ke-h8UCg9Pv39ZAgP0ib1TaIX5WWbb-PEN2fQFjSluN4XKI2hMUbQ/w640-h480/DSC01355.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1FWPhNfJi7Ju0ZTgioWursO5-AvDV8NsPHSzrWncES9aOjpigqH2RWFyuyWTQueNjwFwoXOwWsvxbVJJugUfBmBT69NIZF3E9VKa7DX6D-V9ojtNuhSHqsH4Os3oNOprhuEgZAf1nyrgv8P9s7yNWSp4hJuFsiqhR14VHSE0F2f-Rz42kEsLlxhvYQ/s1000/DSC01351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1FWPhNfJi7Ju0ZTgioWursO5-AvDV8NsPHSzrWncES9aOjpigqH2RWFyuyWTQueNjwFwoXOwWsvxbVJJugUfBmBT69NIZF3E9VKa7DX6D-V9ojtNuhSHqsH4Os3oNOprhuEgZAf1nyrgv8P9s7yNWSp4hJuFsiqhR14VHSE0F2f-Rz42kEsLlxhvYQ/w640-h480/DSC01351.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinder</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And in the morning we went to Geoff and Chrissie's and went off to finally bag Robin Hood's Picking Rods, and, in-between doggy-based skirmishes, we had a cracking walk in a chilly wind, breezing in from somewhere the other side of Manchester. Thanks to Geoff and Chrissie for looking after me and feeding me with Geoff's pasties (not a euphamism) and for breakfast and several brews. And so, me and LTD went home.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">In other TGO news, I have laminated extracts from seven 1:50k OS maps, saving just half a kilogramme and next week I have a final TGO chally shake-down in Galloway, or South Ayrshire. I was going to go to Llangollen, but this would involve the trans-Pennine express/Northern rail and , frankly, their record of actually having a train turn up at all has been poor. They're blaming covid for a lack of drivers, but they failed to turn up several years ago when I went to the Dales for a pre-TGO shakedown, resulting in missed connections and a late arrival in Clapham. So I have more confidence in arriving at a destination by using the knipemobile. So that's what I'm doing. I have the maps. I have the dog. I'm going to Galloway. (hopefully!)</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">After this I'll do a food plan. This ought to be better than my Howgills food plan where I ran out of food. The upside of this was some very nice bacon from Sedbergh market.<br /></span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseKbXvYTqDg83zbk8CCDGpM1iXy54nGNdddZOcE3hhH8aJIB_JINinDhuVulKaHoNgu1ccDUPEmJg_LguRpOQ9_59yKruiI6GNJxngU6WPALSzkfe3WyCOR9YZMw6ntWGDvsNWsGMjPFDPHb_W6x12gVCH3UuDytV1R4p_T5VGdVrF-vqv9F2DGnSAw/s1000/DSC01375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseKbXvYTqDg83zbk8CCDGpM1iXy54nGNdddZOcE3hhH8aJIB_JINinDhuVulKaHoNgu1ccDUPEmJg_LguRpOQ9_59yKruiI6GNJxngU6WPALSzkfe3WyCOR9YZMw6ntWGDvsNWsGMjPFDPHb_W6x12gVCH3UuDytV1R4p_T5VGdVrF-vqv9F2DGnSAw/w640-h480/DSC01375.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And...rest (Pebbles snoozing on my lap)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-41886525396430904112022-03-23T12:13:00.000+00:002022-03-23T12:13:01.168+00:00TGO Challenge Stuff Number Two<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H9_J4rjhQKWMLL_9EJxeJPrHQ4a4d7hWOdMU6xl-KeK_kyufyscnopDVBrr82vpQdk7AOYojyG93FC0nFHA9dBVuwmC37Fh41AceHQUEaO9aNhK8603t5nvgwFv2x_8mQ-vDEdYBbY3OCRRKhmOWMALhHYDpoS_6DMBHrgqwHTqyBnpoFtu2DDmFRg/s1000/DSC01290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H9_J4rjhQKWMLL_9EJxeJPrHQ4a4d7hWOdMU6xl-KeK_kyufyscnopDVBrr82vpQdk7AOYojyG93FC0nFHA9dBVuwmC37Fh41AceHQUEaO9aNhK8603t5nvgwFv2x_8mQ-vDEdYBbY3OCRRKhmOWMALhHYDpoS_6DMBHrgqwHTqyBnpoFtu2DDmFRg/w640-h480/DSC01290.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD RTG (Ready to go)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, what progress towards setting out on the TGO Challenge has been made so far? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have a vetted route, vetted by Dr Emma, who has been very helpful. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have a bed booked at an hotel in Hayfield for the TGO Challenge Spring Gathering, organised by the Very Lovely Alan. LTD is also attending and we're hoping for No Blizzards as in previous TGO Challenge gatherings and <i>maybe </i>an attempt on the legend-soaked Robin Hood's Picking Rods via the South Couloir with a direct ascent of the Gendarme du Merde followed by a traverse of the Bad Step. This hill has avoided my gentle attentions for several years now, mainly due to snow storms, Derbyshire County Council's enthusiasm for closing the Snake Pass and a Pandemic. The expedition will be lead by the Crowthers of Hayfield. They know the way and I don't. Nothing could possibly go wrong.....<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODkapg7hDafl1ahJWjzZ7JUsnmc57MR6dk82Kv7jQ1Dm3XK3ITwWO25eQqMwEjtDWYAmsuyecOmoYl7eL9n6dhlUW-ZlJLrp3szNEsUgh_E_ykdRjlz_HkszgAEE8JlD1ZCwTrggYU5tBrsNEU5qmIdomWbTAw5HKZHdfaCX54V3FEuBirJ8DPShyUA/s1000/DSC01291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODkapg7hDafl1ahJWjzZ7JUsnmc57MR6dk82Kv7jQ1Dm3XK3ITwWO25eQqMwEjtDWYAmsuyecOmoYl7eL9n6dhlUW-ZlJLrp3szNEsUgh_E_ykdRjlz_HkszgAEE8JlD1ZCwTrggYU5tBrsNEU5qmIdomWbTAw5HKZHdfaCX54V3FEuBirJ8DPShyUA/w640-h480/DSC01291.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD dribbles over JJ's lunch.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73UMaUbQEzlEv4hr7nhlUM-74qFN7v6znUf6PCzW-oJ9VRruDRollK1Gym5kK9oby3uReKaWN10iWdAZ93z9VautrF393lLOidCyVlyrojqbZ9vzfC1ZaKpwis2Aw2NE8WIB4ktN2jZ1WE3LLk5I3O4PbYohgIkJeApHOeOJWMmhFgymf0lSTlUQn2A/s1000/DSC01292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73UMaUbQEzlEv4hr7nhlUM-74qFN7v6znUf6PCzW-oJ9VRruDRollK1Gym5kK9oby3uReKaWN10iWdAZ93z9VautrF393lLOidCyVlyrojqbZ9vzfC1ZaKpwis2Aw2NE8WIB4ktN2jZ1WE3LLk5I3O4PbYohgIkJeApHOeOJWMmhFgymf0lSTlUQn2A/w640-h480/DSC01292.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ auditions for Strictly Come Hiking</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">After having the route vetted and approved, I booked some trains. A train to Glasgow from That Durham and a train from Montrose to That Durham. Citylinks bus has been booked to take me from Glasgow to Dornie. Accomodation at Dornie will be in a tent. And I have a B&B booked in Newtonmore, so I'm fixed on getting to Newtonmore. In between Dornie and Stonehaven I are mainly camping, mostly wild and sometimes discreetly.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8b4M6a2uUyL7bkITq15ScYsLampv1WN5vGf3twuxUVzG7vTHpPxbdgnYI-2qyF4CaeNGdsdnojltzTz13IR-ZZ1PXD6TKWFCYwVRqfcDkgBFuOznHaIqjMhC4hOu6-xZMCOiZD2ObQLGdYwOMMQw0UYlXe60QBFR29O2Y2qvGvfrbtS4svkNPA9dt7Q/s1000/DSC01294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8b4M6a2uUyL7bkITq15ScYsLampv1WN5vGf3twuxUVzG7vTHpPxbdgnYI-2qyF4CaeNGdsdnojltzTz13IR-ZZ1PXD6TKWFCYwVRqfcDkgBFuOznHaIqjMhC4hOu6-xZMCOiZD2ObQLGdYwOMMQw0UYlXe60QBFR29O2Y2qvGvfrbtS4svkNPA9dt7Q/w640-h480/DSC01294.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Determined JJ in the Howgill Fells<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfp0sPh9SilxTez5mkbvkSWHgjjL0elFPbFha6EEviVFUKkL-iKmctKUXz5EUhyX8UouGbWbnaBa1cLnMmrGbkctYcG7E0MEvyE7bkS3nreq3jJP13oeqKJ74meS3izdtPtSwbIu250XOv_nQlL4djW3AcQHtpvYGx-3DWNR5oLVsK_pFKjbVtX7frA/s5152/DSC01312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfp0sPh9SilxTez5mkbvkSWHgjjL0elFPbFha6EEviVFUKkL-iKmctKUXz5EUhyX8UouGbWbnaBa1cLnMmrGbkctYcG7E0MEvyE7bkS3nreq3jJP13oeqKJ74meS3izdtPtSwbIu250XOv_nQlL4djW3AcQHtpvYGx-3DWNR5oLVsK_pFKjbVtX7frA/w640-h480/DSC01312.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No idea who this is</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmqjsW9flh7KUA7V6FtUpZeEYjHH-qk3W2SJZ7mBQA6avhFPwmhmR7DjE0XuwM-bNkg-f4dfTXJzx4ssdsJ2aiyCOSHvtftov3RpbnlL198pqHnDRZr2QAH-braY48cfEUF6DPXHxVp-OhGVCEEZuDWw83HF1zesGy1JJFka7fiz8GLLNOgLfifGtaw/s1000/DSC01307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmqjsW9flh7KUA7V6FtUpZeEYjHH-qk3W2SJZ7mBQA6avhFPwmhmR7DjE0XuwM-bNkg-f4dfTXJzx4ssdsJ2aiyCOSHvtftov3RpbnlL198pqHnDRZr2QAH-braY48cfEUF6DPXHxVp-OhGVCEEZuDWw83HF1zesGy1JJFka7fiz8GLLNOgLfifGtaw/w640-h480/DSC01307.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp near Cautley</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, the next aspect of TGO chally preparation is physical and mental preparation. I usually deal with these things by 1) Walking about a lot. and 2) Having a couple of backpacking trips where lessons are re-learned - such as not running out of food, not mistaking bright moonlight for dawn and not carrying a load of stuff that's not going to be used. And, since the first day of the 2022 challenge and a bit of the second day will be in company with JJ, it seems logical to do some of this with JJ. And so, we went to the Howgill Fells and walked about a bit for two full days and two half days.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxj8s4Ton46SWDr_5aZS4-PrPneks-Vnuv6UVpDkYBuvnGUJY2bC1uU9QH-Nq8GQFZgevsjJUQJWasO6j6U6vb0Vo8avQ4Jga5vtSKllAXwbTb7P_zH6vwdGNcKQIB6IyAd71MYx8L16ermFPzzdYdJqjyCGdpHZNnn0fOSjsOgoCHUe8vSaTZ9bdkdQ/s1000/DSC01305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxj8s4Ton46SWDr_5aZS4-PrPneks-Vnuv6UVpDkYBuvnGUJY2bC1uU9QH-Nq8GQFZgevsjJUQJWasO6j6U6vb0Vo8avQ4Jga5vtSKllAXwbTb7P_zH6vwdGNcKQIB6IyAd71MYx8L16ermFPzzdYdJqjyCGdpHZNnn0fOSjsOgoCHUe8vSaTZ9bdkdQ/w640-h480/DSC01305.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seems to be in a fairly cheerful mood</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rildvl93y-ZhzY6C-YUtzWa3nX7-hruNwTdSwTxFZsYdFqlbOiOMwXRQLpKs3pZ7a_B7HM8tJq_BWUXuf2Us2GYWFeuuyyHlHBCzijCxHPZLwBQ4WvQrfN1bohGT3KYC0hb0gfRDePhnE4InjJFX6GEtVOOTyKShluelHJwFNvSukN5GgC2uEZ2YBQ/s1000/DSC01301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rildvl93y-ZhzY6C-YUtzWa3nX7-hruNwTdSwTxFZsYdFqlbOiOMwXRQLpKs3pZ7a_B7HM8tJq_BWUXuf2Us2GYWFeuuyyHlHBCzijCxHPZLwBQ4WvQrfN1bohGT3KYC0hb0gfRDePhnE4InjJFX6GEtVOOTyKShluelHJwFNvSukN5GgC2uEZ2YBQ/w640-h480/DSC01301.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ on a damp morning</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1PBco7Bn2EwafAPRiUjPkyUNls9NOeYGoSwQoWn7l8-CGsynvUl_Lb-yCANTfHVirOq6etV3qUYF2rnK1gQmttrD1AGSA8sQwMbBXAap3B8INQSZUxSbYFMR1SfzajqC9MaR-WLXUb6Zr_hhDd6-KXm4cQ_0awQFHyQOi_hBE8XEeZKs4nI_TLbnGw/s1000/DSC01300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1PBco7Bn2EwafAPRiUjPkyUNls9NOeYGoSwQoWn7l8-CGsynvUl_Lb-yCANTfHVirOq6etV3qUYF2rnK1gQmttrD1AGSA8sQwMbBXAap3B8INQSZUxSbYFMR1SfzajqC9MaR-WLXUb6Zr_hhDd6-KXm4cQ_0awQFHyQOi_hBE8XEeZKs4nI_TLbnGw/w640-h480/DSC01300.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">second Howgills camp</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">The Howgills is a cracking place for backpacking. There's loads of places to camp and nobody goes there (apart from the four or five other backpackers we saw, the two runners and the half dozen day walkers. The water is good but the hills can form wind-tunnels in the North-South facing valleys. And navigation can be a bit of a challenge sometimes. Distances, however, on this particular walk, were short.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIjxcupdwUQyEzMHG8pldjc4XlScDC5E-ToHzKEIhlOJKKw4Yorh413yL2GszbaAlorPVQkv9aERv0iTiDkCLvMew7RuHJ10hFJ-w-_TbuSJIqmKBnTWBVuSutqnGLSRM81AFH3ADzLthSmDASCuAaFff1h24yEOO4jv-eEt16nd13LXzvLwZx6tC_g/s1000/DSC01297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIjxcupdwUQyEzMHG8pldjc4XlScDC5E-ToHzKEIhlOJKKw4Yorh413yL2GszbaAlorPVQkv9aERv0iTiDkCLvMew7RuHJ10hFJ-w-_TbuSJIqmKBnTWBVuSutqnGLSRM81AFH3ADzLthSmDASCuAaFff1h24yEOO4jv-eEt16nd13LXzvLwZx6tC_g/w640-h480/DSC01297.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 2</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKOC4d1LEPpPZ2fRWbMq0anXBbUSZ_U1VAhGlQ8UK0HYyL0frq68ocFHZh6z7WiqoFJqpEVmHEBrfWIuO2wIECBSxu_uh1UflnV4tZ9RbeIPH1IngJ09fE8dds2LICaPsYD9neCqjqRhkZ7H8Wh59hJSklPbjh9V41759xKX_-T3dSncoZkGAWNpIxA/s5152/DSC01289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKOC4d1LEPpPZ2fRWbMq0anXBbUSZ_U1VAhGlQ8UK0HYyL0frq68ocFHZh6z7WiqoFJqpEVmHEBrfWIuO2wIECBSxu_uh1UflnV4tZ9RbeIPH1IngJ09fE8dds2LICaPsYD9neCqjqRhkZ7H8Wh59hJSklPbjh9V41759xKX_-T3dSncoZkGAWNpIxA/w640-h480/DSC01289.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also Day 2</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNE509M__42Kw0MKi98ntH4kwTWgdFA4FnFxXbRqB3J62KVxqEl7uEk-O2COG89j614T6KHE2OavMKGrIKbPoEBb8P6CMbU3QCkao2IIemcQ4OWbQz9OAZvrem_kp2i6sponmxzBVC3PWcBRxaBVJMfASPy3EfuiAEuqolhIpDcEPTZL1DkZbbnwdAEQ/s1000/DSC01287.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNE509M__42Kw0MKi98ntH4kwTWgdFA4FnFxXbRqB3J62KVxqEl7uEk-O2COG89j614T6KHE2OavMKGrIKbPoEBb8P6CMbU3QCkao2IIemcQ4OWbQz9OAZvrem_kp2i6sponmxzBVC3PWcBRxaBVJMfASPy3EfuiAEuqolhIpDcEPTZL1DkZbbnwdAEQ/w640-h480/DSC01287.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD has detected somebody opening a bag of smoky bacon crisps in Barrow in Furness</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, it all went reasonably well. We walked from Ravenstonedale to Sedbergh and back in a big circle. I ran out of gas and LTD was a doggy food pouch short (and he blames ME for this!). But we re-supplied in Sedbergh. Unfortunately, during the transactions required for re-supplying, LTD attacked the shop owner's puppy, although I don't believe any physical harm was done, the shopkeeper was pretty unhappy about this and we had to retreat to the Red Lion where we ate and drank and tried to light their fire, which, for some reason, was quite reluctant in the conflagration department. We spent much time sheltering from the rain. Sedbergh market provided some nice bacon and a pasty and the Spar shop produced beans and smash and more whisky for the in-tent entertainment. And it rained all day.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1Ht_6tgD1dgotMSpc6U_Gysw_s3M9V15LeuqxVv-ss8DCeLY_VFD64QaI4fCigqX6Sgthpw-ledz4B7iu2N5r75A-P6ONsyzk-FhNZ9BPQOUHDgeExT5q0ExD48N8KWEIJFC2OlVHr3vnje7cDVWpP1nIXG20dZ5GZm8iqIDCKFRa6sLR8S6i4EXMw/s1000/DSC01285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1Ht_6tgD1dgotMSpc6U_Gysw_s3M9V15LeuqxVv-ss8DCeLY_VFD64QaI4fCigqX6Sgthpw-ledz4B7iu2N5r75A-P6ONsyzk-FhNZ9BPQOUHDgeExT5q0ExD48N8KWEIJFC2OlVHr3vnje7cDVWpP1nIXG20dZ5GZm8iqIDCKFRa6sLR8S6i4EXMw/w640-h480/DSC01285.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD navigating. He's quite good at navigation</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXnYOYwobdzTk34MkVK_32d7JI3E3Rw16X35meUDa6eArD4N7n7od3-oDf3TcP0Izx5QucoACsrurvPwWtm_5hcRwiSOiP0iM8KbiYgHbmdj9V9BpIYjdyEFhDAMwdTtwV-JurLpk2s-vIq-1Rzgig0V0U5ZLM3xWu3wwLJDqaT8vgjpPvRfqz8iWFw/s1000/DSC01282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXnYOYwobdzTk34MkVK_32d7JI3E3Rw16X35meUDa6eArD4N7n7od3-oDf3TcP0Izx5QucoACsrurvPwWtm_5hcRwiSOiP0iM8KbiYgHbmdj9V9BpIYjdyEFhDAMwdTtwV-JurLpk2s-vIq-1Rzgig0V0U5ZLM3xWu3wwLJDqaT8vgjpPvRfqz8iWFw/w640-h480/DSC01282.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ follows closely behind, ever alert for sudden changes of direction</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjld4DQdXhkbVzO9yAJPpPKVfoSLZFYr4HDpqYa0QCxXzthLF3JS6ti9HKKG9oSOXOQTkNW3U0Q7vmFDyBdyYDPWP4EFPQjlVxow9VnU1y50RWXellW8u3tavJvui5ZvVuqJhROho4ys14-Ns_r3XYkILAv-wJ4Ur69B5CxjXS1ypdeZ4mmVVWYkJIT1Q/s1000/DSC01280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjld4DQdXhkbVzO9yAJPpPKVfoSLZFYr4HDpqYa0QCxXzthLF3JS6ti9HKKG9oSOXOQTkNW3U0Q7vmFDyBdyYDPWP4EFPQjlVxow9VnU1y50RWXellW8u3tavJvui5ZvVuqJhROho4ys14-Ns_r3XYkILAv-wJ4Ur69B5CxjXS1ypdeZ4mmVVWYkJIT1Q/w640-h480/DSC01280.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Justaminnit, these pics are in the wrong order</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin4TYOL4s8Ivn7kYJrnGIvYKOPFghM1Qzezaaom-XLngn3cIcZodNlCPCeztW42fj4RYuifnR-qRaIiHIJIXC91e89kJ_DAiqzekg9oumqZtbGVv7irKYzfZ8oVF56bG8Jg6Csu778Bnsg1MYx7o01ybbHoCM1Jmoza9hLneIN27rgnWtt48nENX1M4w/s1000/DSC01276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin4TYOL4s8Ivn7kYJrnGIvYKOPFghM1Qzezaaom-XLngn3cIcZodNlCPCeztW42fj4RYuifnR-qRaIiHIJIXC91e89kJ_DAiqzekg9oumqZtbGVv7irKYzfZ8oVF56bG8Jg6Csu778Bnsg1MYx7o01ybbHoCM1Jmoza9hLneIN27rgnWtt48nENX1M4w/w640-h480/DSC01276.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First camp</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4jKhBFNyz2InvhI-lz_VVBHy05Mz0WmcfkP5kuccFbtWpvxClmHkn2AR_DyT97N8qfHcbQrMgBMgi1U37Y9m0kJpcPIqnUFIJvUrcbUD4_ituQxkz-OZcPjh2M929W3Ag1YQ52IAeP58I62z_H6GCWEAYwNX9Hr4fJF7ab9qgmaOZC0KuZLWFBuH7A/s1000/DSC01274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4jKhBFNyz2InvhI-lz_VVBHy05Mz0WmcfkP5kuccFbtWpvxClmHkn2AR_DyT97N8qfHcbQrMgBMgi1U37Y9m0kJpcPIqnUFIJvUrcbUD4_ituQxkz-OZcPjh2M929W3Ag1YQ52IAeP58I62z_H6GCWEAYwNX9Hr4fJF7ab9qgmaOZC0KuZLWFBuH7A/w640-h480/DSC01274.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First camp (windy)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And so, replete with Sedbergh's hospitality and extra supplies of food and gas and drink, we slithered through the mud and rain up the bridleway to Cautley where we pitched the tents somewhat out of sight. The forecast for the last half day's walk was encouragingly good. This forecast turned out to be a load of dingo's kidneys and, after a brief spell of <strike>benignness</strike> <strike>benignity </strike> being a pleasant morning, it rained for the rest of the journey and the Cross Keys was closed. On the upside, the bacon and coffee for breakfast was superb. The key skill, with your bacon and only a small cooking pot, is to cut up the bacon into small pieces to get that all-over tan effect with crispy bits. The results can be loaded into a wrap, a sache of brown sauce applied and the whole thing washed down with a pint or so of hot Taylor's coffee at a strength sufficient to make your hair stand up. Only then can the packing of gear begin.</span><div><span style="font-size: large;">I'm in the planning stages of a similar trip to Galloway for April. The planning mainly consisting of buying a map<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CDEBvdB7A2qoZYE6Wk4INEJvbeaqDju0S96DRzdMnanWekmnlWOhkn7ucsKnYSvb5HI4hcYaJEr5YxAHWjJez8NuUuD3Ws0-tyL2_amWNrlQQo_r2wrlv0oSd1RLKFs0WtIM_xwfZbTWFuPHB-wZD9qHXwHNDKUMmHG5GITXsLr_I-ETWitu-UywSA/s1000/DSC01273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CDEBvdB7A2qoZYE6Wk4INEJvbeaqDju0S96DRzdMnanWekmnlWOhkn7ucsKnYSvb5HI4hcYaJEr5YxAHWjJez8NuUuD3Ws0-tyL2_amWNrlQQo_r2wrlv0oSd1RLKFs0WtIM_xwfZbTWFuPHB-wZD9qHXwHNDKUMmHG5GITXsLr_I-ETWitu-UywSA/w640-h480/DSC01273.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD won't be allowed on the TGO challenge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-71700461694835492332022-03-03T22:51:00.002+00:002022-03-03T22:51:59.030+00:00February - A Train Rant and Other Stuff<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdnPL6noM2FKtKm00W2CqOvH6QmVoxjbABSQjmyTJWXkRy8g6vBjQeLmlI-iTLVdZU9kof3fjILQEvCtpkKHTI-czFAWP9hTaM4VOp6dA0cqwaosK43ghp9QbZkqAWmYDB59HRuoeZijfI1YRxxE819pjExQVUGAQiLaKQmhmzSi9QvJu-TJnvm8IXjg=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="451" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdnPL6noM2FKtKm00W2CqOvH6QmVoxjbABSQjmyTJWXkRy8g6vBjQeLmlI-iTLVdZU9kof3fjILQEvCtpkKHTI-czFAWP9hTaM4VOp6dA0cqwaosK43ghp9QbZkqAWmYDB59HRuoeZijfI1YRxxE819pjExQVUGAQiLaKQmhmzSi9QvJu-TJnvm8IXjg=w640-h451" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern (Comedy Service) Rail Not Coming From Carlisle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <span style="font-size: large;">I'll get to the rant in a minute. Bear with me, I need to build up some steam. But the picture above of the "arrivals" board at Newcastle Central Station is a symptom. The station is using the ironic, or maybe sarcastic version of "arrivals" here in that one of the trains is not arriving at all. In fact it hasn't set off. More of which later.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My second little rant is about blogger , which, once again, has loaded the pictures in reverse order. It fights desperately with me if I try to re-arrange them and I've not yet been bright enough to outwit it by loading the pictures into the picture-selecting box in the opposite order to which they are required. This , the first picture is Lucky The Dog admiring the carpet in the Twice Brewed Inn on Hadrian's Wall. One of the clauses that Hadrian had written into the contract for Hadrian's Wall was that it went quite close to the Twice Brewed Inn. Mainly because the beer there is very nice and much better than anything you could get in Rome at the time. That and the fact that they don't use much in the way of fomented fish sauce in the steak pie.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKb5jtqQyEDEbI4fSx3V5bM46E9rd0Dj2cUrsihDSN5RzuaVdEB-fd4B2jlv9D5HVMdrQcbtXnp-0ex3CJYLChdTzo_sqEEt21na0AFk8A8z0XjBsmAzBPkjK6hwrcPPY4vWJxpNdETf8dPCAINMXw-QnaoMaVpL_ghrmHfGrjirJ5fS0ecCAK5JEq5A=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKb5jtqQyEDEbI4fSx3V5bM46E9rd0Dj2cUrsihDSN5RzuaVdEB-fd4B2jlv9D5HVMdrQcbtXnp-0ex3CJYLChdTzo_sqEEt21na0AFk8A8z0XjBsmAzBPkjK6hwrcPPY4vWJxpNdETf8dPCAINMXw-QnaoMaVpL_ghrmHfGrjirJ5fS0ecCAK5JEq5A=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD looking for a crumb</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe7CCWR-4qZBIN1MZalTx8hKR1OrfZJ3fY41__NjvwX2CwPn4Nf10v22KuJ3EHber-qjHKWZ1_ilAuoqmgZAzF0Ged7wH5LYaT37x5iCv3rT8368u-oJF1J2mX9WMRPiTFYH78J9o5RoBMODnWLm21otT2Rft9u7ErbpZQJMDPL5TRFH7x5pavMy5SHg=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe7CCWR-4qZBIN1MZalTx8hKR1OrfZJ3fY41__NjvwX2CwPn4Nf10v22KuJ3EHber-qjHKWZ1_ilAuoqmgZAzF0Ged7wH5LYaT37x5iCv3rT8368u-oJF1J2mX9WMRPiTFYH78J9o5RoBMODnWLm21otT2Rft9u7ErbpZQJMDPL5TRFH7x5pavMy5SHg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sycamore Gap from the North</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6bzZK56JagQuOvO0v5r_Wp1XAyasYg_zHOQ0BZ-uto-0mB2v8CZKxz2VDQqGuAFekG1MM9OOewMETR4PuWe9v1rNsat8D3J58q5xWRDFYDGvK7kZv-KGX1k5GqQdDgdC1MjMf3F--0Dssxw5rMcXMOx53ZCVaZ6Vl9eZrz4vj9TlgsLJn9XzVkulveA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6bzZK56JagQuOvO0v5r_Wp1XAyasYg_zHOQ0BZ-uto-0mB2v8CZKxz2VDQqGuAFekG1MM9OOewMETR4PuWe9v1rNsat8D3J58q5xWRDFYDGvK7kZv-KGX1k5GqQdDgdC1MjMf3F--0Dssxw5rMcXMOx53ZCVaZ6Vl9eZrz4vj9TlgsLJn9XzVkulveA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sum sheep. No idea how many, I keep falling asleep</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, what of February. Mainly it rained and was very windy. I think it was Very very windy on four or five occasions and at times it was wet at the same time, or otherwise, just before the windy bits. Or just after. Several of the windy bits were Atlantic Storms which had cosy names like "Fluffy" and "Graham". "Ronnie was a bastard and tangled up the wind-chimes in our garden as well as blowing trampolines on to Lane Three of the A1(M) in several places. This was Not Good for the walking. So less walking was done in Feb 2022 than as far back as Feb 2011.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg2pSvSrF6NDxlXuHtgXWUOYVTdkTZMdnLmih60rePBS2xx75e9J_xllMGaq2ZF0ag-0cD0c3WQ3bJs76Bqh_8NhHA-xZF7CQKkxvk1_0kVit5wpInTOI1sIWEqJL6lwRbO0ume2gOpiiCqUs9wsiqp3JR6foX7hVS3hjRNTYNjBPtqtUIWQHu3tIKBA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg2pSvSrF6NDxlXuHtgXWUOYVTdkTZMdnLmih60rePBS2xx75e9J_xllMGaq2ZF0ag-0cD0c3WQ3bJs76Bqh_8NhHA-xZF7CQKkxvk1_0kVit5wpInTOI1sIWEqJL6lwRbO0ume2gOpiiCqUs9wsiqp3JR6foX7hVS3hjRNTYNjBPtqtUIWQHu3tIKBA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD suspects that there may be a gravy bone inside that rucksack</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">But there were some highlights, apart from the sheltering and drinking tea (Yorkshire Tea, grown in Doncaster) Me and Dawn went camping to Buttermere. This was a bit muddy but we were the only campers there and it was a nice break. Me and LTD managed to bag two very small hills. We left just as it got windy again (yellow warning for severe gales)</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmfuKuW6I3JBJrs18mgaanWzKb0FlFbSMJfHjn38m6_xrd6eIH_XfqIwVp_48jVb_zS_GmNORrQr2M6cS-oQrTnKklWX_iqIE3aVPXofTBraiN21S04FDVLVUyO1kp6jcBEj0F0KoQGFXuPI0_kxF7cRfg9be1l7W3pSYmBTuprOTTHQh97YkGWiDNMA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmfuKuW6I3JBJrs18mgaanWzKb0FlFbSMJfHjn38m6_xrd6eIH_XfqIwVp_48jVb_zS_GmNORrQr2M6cS-oQrTnKklWX_iqIE3aVPXofTBraiN21S04FDVLVUyO1kp6jcBEj0F0KoQGFXuPI0_kxF7cRfg9be1l7W3pSYmBTuprOTTHQh97YkGWiDNMA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crook and Weardale Ramblers doing a Caledonian-style river crossing</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5LPkVLxPjbGQ6oOYVZ6jEXVZeFm9ZnErYR3S4VNEHHXV8WQuiVebaMnMDe4M5_M-nl1GcnZba9lUzXbJl2Ddso7MWMQHAKgweyi3KrS1VNQgg8zrx4ggjiB9GXJNjNALIbXv_eqbmWA3n6_QlGx__gQkgtUQwXCpvyNPqo3Vs3omcrP48OPlnr2ZcQQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5LPkVLxPjbGQ6oOYVZ6jEXVZeFm9ZnErYR3S4VNEHHXV8WQuiVebaMnMDe4M5_M-nl1GcnZba9lUzXbJl2Ddso7MWMQHAKgweyi3KrS1VNQgg8zrx4ggjiB9GXJNjNALIbXv_eqbmWA3n6_QlGx__gQkgtUQwXCpvyNPqo3Vs3omcrP48OPlnr2ZcQQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High Force, obviously</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">The, me and LTD attended three Crook and Weardale Ramblers walks, one of which was snowy, another wet, I mean quite wet... and another on a beautiful spring-like day. Attendance on walks seems to be increasing a bit - specially in terms of the canines. We were up to three doggies in Teesdale. LTD isn't keen on doggies....</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTeQT-7le6dK6dr_0VPORjh8tNdGuNA7cvswCaU6UYi6fxq54QKMTaHTnpk4lHOXExkVFMmJ7Po_cBSsOaZyYVv52rftjRKA184zGWm-jw5uH7tGMXq9wJ6yZdP-Mcc-XzjbTVS66DfRjf5xQvMTSRJb90EUZ7WzVbpIRikLi360LKS2ExsSpi_7AKAg=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTeQT-7le6dK6dr_0VPORjh8tNdGuNA7cvswCaU6UYi6fxq54QKMTaHTnpk4lHOXExkVFMmJ7Po_cBSsOaZyYVv52rftjRKA184zGWm-jw5uH7tGMXq9wJ6yZdP-Mcc-XzjbTVS66DfRjf5xQvMTSRJb90EUZ7WzVbpIRikLi360LKS2ExsSpi_7AKAg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Horse of Kilburn (not ancient!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaq3s8L-GliVjJAzlo1UACFoiWWRCLtbQPW5l0k5baEFCxP3-r6zIy3dIdFgMl-BLkYiJOv14Yz-nWFWaW8F1t3b-PE9ZCbByvyue4sORwqTiKbeyt1O1YZHV_Iz0F_LUwt6dTFLORk8A9WtUvYiZQMrJpUWO5lLXUGucSUAMpqiZeD98L0cqGlHyk9A=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaq3s8L-GliVjJAzlo1UACFoiWWRCLtbQPW5l0k5baEFCxP3-r6zIy3dIdFgMl-BLkYiJOv14Yz-nWFWaW8F1t3b-PE9ZCbByvyue4sORwqTiKbeyt1O1YZHV_Iz0F_LUwt6dTFLORk8A9WtUvYiZQMrJpUWO5lLXUGucSUAMpqiZeD98L0cqGlHyk9A=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grasmoor, near Buttermere</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhz7oUyKq3VfPohfWP3LLN29F6sM2O3yZFOjMWDkFGTV9ilv6ikkvYTJy7t68D6MYKFAtjM5ThyiQ1BMsd-qAui2tPv-Ubpotq8uptveSZWml9T0s2-ZizQv8wQzmZZuuaKzwo870uocxOEWVx48SjCA1X_H7_7jHfAOP51fImVeVW9QaLU-6jVGx4P2A=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhz7oUyKq3VfPohfWP3LLN29F6sM2O3yZFOjMWDkFGTV9ilv6ikkvYTJy7t68D6MYKFAtjM5ThyiQ1BMsd-qAui2tPv-Ubpotq8uptveSZWml9T0s2-ZizQv8wQzmZZuuaKzwo870uocxOEWVx48SjCA1X_H7_7jHfAOP51fImVeVW9QaLU-6jVGx4P2A=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buttermere camp</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">And so, I come to the part where I have a bit of a rant. I had decided to have a night out at a certain bothy, not all that far from Hadrian's Wall and had secreted some firewood there a week or so earlier. I decided, that, rather than abandon a car nearby, I would go on the train - noting that Bardon Mill station was only a hop and a step away from the bothy and twenty quid for a return ticket with a lift home from Mrs Pieman would be a good strategy.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">So she took me to the station. The first thing I noticed was that all of the trains coming up from That London were 15 minutes late due to a "security incident" at Peterborough. I had a ten-minute gap between trains, so I hopped on one I shouldn't have been on, according to my ticket.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">At Newcastle, the station announcer announced that my train to Bardon Mill was cancelled due to a lack of drivers. A nice lady in a red suit confirmed this and added that the train after it was also cancelled. So I got on a train that went to Carlisle but stopped at Hexham, but not at Bardon Mill. I got the 685 bus to Bardon Mill and arrived only 30 minutes late. This is when it started raining.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">I arrived at The Bothy at teatime, got water, fed the dog, put the dog to bed (he stayed there for the next 15 hours, a record - he was clearly fed-up) I lit the fire using some extra coal I'd brought and snuggled in for a very quiet night with brews and scotch and the radio. And LTD's contented sighs snores and farts.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">The morning was really beautiful - a bright, sunny and frosty start and we had a lazy breakfast sitting in the doorway in the sun-trap.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">The return walk was on paths North of the Wall and then to Twice Brewed for a couple of pints and a stupidly large breakfast and then down to Bardon Mill for the train. </span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">At Bardon Mill, an announcement was made that the train to Carlisle was cancelled. I began to have a sinking feeling about this. The phone to customer services couldn't confirm either way whether or not my train to Newcastle would or would not run, or even that it existed at all. So I decided to get the bus, which turned up at the bus stop a few minutes after me and LTD and took us to Newcastle, arriving 90 minutes early.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">My train was, in fact, cancelled. Had I waited I would have missed the connection to Durham, and you can't get on one of these trains without a seat reservation.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">Get my money back? I tried the website and it's impossible to navigate. So I rang them up and they won't talk about refunds on the phone.</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">If I'm ever faced with Northern Rail again, I think I'll pass and see what the local bus service can come up with. Or I'll drive...</span></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00; font-size: large;">Notice the use of green. All rants ought to be in green ink. It ought to be a rule. Or it's not a proper rant. Fact.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, it's spring now and the daffies are coming up, there's skylarks and lapwings in the fields and the sap is rising....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Must go backpacking.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-27036037232870770752022-02-03T21:21:00.004+00:002022-02-03T21:22:32.017+00:00What Happened in January<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdQkL-RCoyad-Z3QRmWemfLaAIjBcTre5ftICxxnyTCCxFKCzoqtu-qwruv9SkKVs6O_OcCs6NcGXidPCAG01EOXtpFMUabw6ionlvNKBjfjaSBLEbVkx7yGeHEtPgrOe0tNyhCepHfwCrS81npc5W55envS1frWhoyq3zIg6E6xjda9d5MG5iR1Z0Zw=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdQkL-RCoyad-Z3QRmWemfLaAIjBcTre5ftICxxnyTCCxFKCzoqtu-qwruv9SkKVs6O_OcCs6NcGXidPCAG01EOXtpFMUabw6ionlvNKBjfjaSBLEbVkx7yGeHEtPgrOe0tNyhCepHfwCrS81npc5W55envS1frWhoyq3zIg6E6xjda9d5MG5iR1Z0Zw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angle Tarn</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes it's nice to look back, especially when pulling out into lane 4 on the M1 to overtake a lane-hogging Audi. And at other times too. Sometimes I like to look back and I mean really, really back. My "Outdoor Stuff" logs go back as far as Easter 1964 when I was the child victim of a school trip to Helwith Bridge where I was not only subjected to a spectacularly spectacular haunting, but I also slit my thumb on a tin of corned beef, covering the lad in the bunk below me in blood. And then there was the walk up Penyghent where my rucksack fell off and spilled it's contents across the mountain, breaking some of my precious things, including my supply of fresh milk in a bottle, causing me to almost starve to death and giving me a lifelong hate of cold tinned spaghetti in tomato sauce. (This was quite exotic for a mill-town lad in 1964). I got into bother for chucking the tin over the wall in disgust, decorating the horns of a passing Swaledale ewe. "Who did that?" demanded Mr Harris, the teacher. "It was Knipe, Sir" came the reply, pointing in accusation. "Tidy it up, Knipe" said Mr Harris, "Squash the tin and stick it in the wall" It's probably still there. Then there was the wet caving trip in Calf Holes Pot and my final escape to the Naked Man cafe in Settle - a wonderful place, even then. I spent all my bus fare on a fine breakfast, followed, in short order by a fine lunch. But will January 2022 match up to this <strike>fantastic </strike> outrageously badly organised expedition? The tip I gave the motherly waitress concerned never trying to transport fresh milk up Penyghent. </span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirv9AzjlxJVIpz5tVTJYlNMFIH4w_9pKfoItPiFqDh6-hBrWS2UiB2RBKXsXnGCrkxVNdrs7D9rq0YTMb-DCCVFW9la8rZlm2zKNpBvDj6CGv58driJDbJ79-OvXaramvG6isYQp7YBFEqx_J68AMkzsLpndkJPzpbBHsCblDNGWmgy29LRoBFs2MBTA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirv9AzjlxJVIpz5tVTJYlNMFIH4w_9pKfoItPiFqDh6-hBrWS2UiB2RBKXsXnGCrkxVNdrs7D9rq0YTMb-DCCVFW9la8rZlm2zKNpBvDj6CGv58driJDbJ79-OvXaramvG6isYQp7YBFEqx_J68AMkzsLpndkJPzpbBHsCblDNGWmgy29LRoBFs2MBTA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Li Yang's Long Walks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgsvmUUxjNDFICVJaix9MeB6GW13JuAZSWbWL6LhjJGJkuJQZ8LkgoStxEi096v6yuHXGwgbZ2ZxUlLOYLQ_Sqr4xhIGc_Sg8RwPbmre-qDmkNeb3hyruEfVR60WSbMcZu--BpK_MHt8S_tTNvV9flJujAHjAtFQI9wy-_5Mx71LlEHvvgZf5xLpSPJ3A=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgsvmUUxjNDFICVJaix9MeB6GW13JuAZSWbWL6LhjJGJkuJQZ8LkgoStxEi096v6yuHXGwgbZ2ZxUlLOYLQ_Sqr4xhIGc_Sg8RwPbmre-qDmkNeb3hyruEfVR60WSbMcZu--BpK_MHt8S_tTNvV9flJujAHjAtFQI9wy-_5Mx71LlEHvvgZf5xLpSPJ3A=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the top of Loadpot Hill</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Not as such... But what happened, I hear you ask, impatiently, tapping your digits on the table and looking at your watch (clever trick that, as it happens...)</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well, according to my 2022 log of Outdoor Stuff Wot I Done, me and LTD did 15 walks and 2 nights camping. I also untangled the wind-chime in the back garden 3 times, following Atlantic storms, removed and burned bits of ash tree from around my car, washed the car a couple of times and went shopping. This is all Outdoor Stuff Wot I Done.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjk5R-PAnU9E7Uee4pRDiS5crT_Zx50PUplxBkQiPE5sLGeq0mA9r6NjbosR2AhH4U6U4lAC7vC2QttQ2EVnLr9CjZvxjnlUwNojum0IaQJc87FU3gspuGZ3wLYCXjqCgYT2lFBNLvbQdDcddV0VLzd9jA1_f72Z6zTfWqKfQj752rZczP44iSDbKWpRQ=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjk5R-PAnU9E7Uee4pRDiS5crT_Zx50PUplxBkQiPE5sLGeq0mA9r6NjbosR2AhH4U6U4lAC7vC2QttQ2EVnLr9CjZvxjnlUwNojum0IaQJc87FU3gspuGZ3wLYCXjqCgYT2lFBNLvbQdDcddV0VLzd9jA1_f72Z6zTfWqKfQj752rZczP44iSDbKWpRQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Pike Mardale</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIU_iNs3x2qG9jQQqVWve6ayVcLucF_PL9O-RZSUcsrLS0SO9bmDVU52gdxAIvNWarOVY8NAqtTCeXsfPIEz1gr3xfD4PyvMVklFlPOH8DwREWvzhcH1gqFkw5J73fsuSDnPkizATxFZW4Pj07OY1VAnnZ-LvzdFkmkZHKMFAuuiznm-T45TlIKCui-A=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIU_iNs3x2qG9jQQqVWve6ayVcLucF_PL9O-RZSUcsrLS0SO9bmDVU52gdxAIvNWarOVY8NAqtTCeXsfPIEz1gr3xfD4PyvMVklFlPOH8DwREWvzhcH1gqFkw5J73fsuSDnPkizATxFZW4Pj07OY1VAnnZ-LvzdFkmkZHKMFAuuiznm-T45TlIKCui-A=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Moors Above Rookhope</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I should add that I completely realise that I can only do 15 walks in a month PLUS some shopping because I am an Old Age Pensioner. OAP's, it would appear, at first glance, have loads of time on their hands, when , in reality, they have little time left, so the idea is to get on with stuff before it all becomes too late. Very few ancestral Knipes or Earby-based Turners made it much past my current age and, if they did, they were in no fit state to walk to the co-op, never mind setting off at dawn with a lass who has too much energy than is sensible and a dog who would have preferred a bit longer snoozing by the radiator.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOfcsbIfGGeqKxrGiOGIKmALrkYNkW2E-XKzU-9PzcSkL6gTdCnfhhTlSKcwp03nyvuOdzVbktNvEX54LSNssl1pmDmjEBZmJib7dNJseY1KGZY2zpSipYZbh0uSlKEqsC-MZY00lMbalZNJmtAR8EKIW7ZiH28p1VtkFTRk-x6JbRI1-DpnDUfXxXuw=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOfcsbIfGGeqKxrGiOGIKmALrkYNkW2E-XKzU-9PzcSkL6gTdCnfhhTlSKcwp03nyvuOdzVbktNvEX54LSNssl1pmDmjEBZmJib7dNJseY1KGZY2zpSipYZbh0uSlKEqsC-MZY00lMbalZNJmtAR8EKIW7ZiH28p1VtkFTRk-x6JbRI1-DpnDUfXxXuw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elephant Trees Weardale</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihF413vnouHg-iL9LgKbEFOa5x8SUFH-tjCUnTT_wOzSRaHNtr9vhvssi0ugNo4UEcc_eoM7qqGmgkJj2yV5TB3-ar0yA7gbmJ-1OnNOU97zNdNAGwfolJ98L4z_TKmhRiLx9cEHZ-qNjExMVklaX3Z5gyd-3_JAxIcKDGVUfvuVpDSOs6QYcsSNAbgg=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihF413vnouHg-iL9LgKbEFOa5x8SUFH-tjCUnTT_wOzSRaHNtr9vhvssi0ugNo4UEcc_eoM7qqGmgkJj2yV5TB3-ar0yA7gbmJ-1OnNOU97zNdNAGwfolJ98L4z_TKmhRiLx9cEHZ-qNjExMVklaX3Z5gyd-3_JAxIcKDGVUfvuVpDSOs6QYcsSNAbgg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slanty path up Skiddaw</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, the bottom line is, there is a limit to the time available and I don't know what it is. In fact, even on 1964, I didn't know what it was, but making it to fifty or sixty seemed a reasonable ambition and a six week summer holiday was most of a lifetime and could be frittered away tucking into Lucky Bags under Mick Burrow's verandah on Wentcliffe Drive.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilpuOSCOIi7476SQwUT_xIDtBNZZXlCChnu8l4qiAObqEaMrDd4BAp3qNKAHPzJKcnEeaxAHnT-QP5z5aV8OPBgfx-3vRV3tEBp7Kw8Uj4IU3fJ7mS735Vn-yBUphdswthrDnX2HKLfJmYdTpLptzcnUXADDlpewpC6DJeZFQ-BgmSRD8LnDPIlelEVA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilpuOSCOIi7476SQwUT_xIDtBNZZXlCChnu8l4qiAObqEaMrDd4BAp3qNKAHPzJKcnEeaxAHnT-QP5z5aV8OPBgfx-3vRV3tEBp7Kw8Uj4IU3fJ7mS735Vn-yBUphdswthrDnX2HKLfJmYdTpLptzcnUXADDlpewpC6DJeZFQ-BgmSRD8LnDPIlelEVA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading for Bakestall</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhajZs_oKHwiktAqKM6wuW5zN0V3QZjyj0LavRpUsWg8RdFdbUuypdmw1ei0hzb9T4Ks7ujuHA2R7RRhXzHzv5sKCGDXfG5GToPbq2iePfpUyeUoA6IOQkrCBCIpmkToiWa5UEDd1mwW4A79TofIpFDSxBHWW39cu3D6WvJ0dG5PA5kBkV1kDII4wj50g=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhajZs_oKHwiktAqKM6wuW5zN0V3QZjyj0LavRpUsWg8RdFdbUuypdmw1ei0hzb9T4Ks7ujuHA2R7RRhXzHzv5sKCGDXfG5GToPbq2iePfpUyeUoA6IOQkrCBCIpmkToiWa5UEDd1mwW4A79TofIpFDSxBHWW39cu3D6WvJ0dG5PA5kBkV1kDII4wj50g=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Straw Man by the Wear near Durham</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">So, I did 15 walks and 143 miles (about 150 according to various GPS devices, but they're always wrong). Four of these walks were with Crook and Weardale Ramblers. Two were with Li Yang and LTD and totaled 41 miles in...er.... total and 9 were just me and the dog. We (me and the dog) bagged 7 new hills, although Lucky's bag was 22 since I'd done the other 15 previously. That's quite good for a dog, I think. And we climbed about 23000 feet of uphill contours. Plus, of course, two nights camping at Angle Tarn. As it wasn't on a campsite, some would define this as "wild" camping, although, to be fair, it wasn't really very wild and nothing much happened at all, although it was very nice. I sort of counted it as a pre-TGO challenge event. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And, speaking of which, I have received my TGO challenge vetter's comments from Dr Emma, who was very gentle with me and my ideas for a route, and has pointed out the locations of various shelters and tea-rooms (never pass a tea-room) and has done some additional investigation on the likelihood of me being washed away whilst crossing a certain burn (Scotch talk for "beck") This matters not very much since JJ will be with me at that point and I'll be sending him ahead to test the strength of the flow. There's a lochan just below this beck and, I expect that JJ is able to swim reasonably well should he unexpectedly arrive in this particular pond, as opposed to the Eastern bank of the burn.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9VqWJdmECVMGCToVAIXmkLVtoqC4NdCEiL-6USzhtCoLtbT2yHyikSo2m9N5XmnSuT-ON82USANLmlnjNOFqWQJU5S_4pC-yG34aPhs56Ko3wlEXwM8CiS3uS5RwqM6GYYACePhM7nOyJGjsYMRhfKUKTrRjNUVIKymuLOLsFRgvha5RpRbU6HWD6fw=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9VqWJdmECVMGCToVAIXmkLVtoqC4NdCEiL-6USzhtCoLtbT2yHyikSo2m9N5XmnSuT-ON82USANLmlnjNOFqWQJU5S_4pC-yG34aPhs56Ko3wlEXwM8CiS3uS5RwqM6GYYACePhM7nOyJGjsYMRhfKUKTrRjNUVIKymuLOLsFRgvha5RpRbU6HWD6fw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It DID snow in January</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <span style="font-size: large;">Me and LTD are now looking forward to February.... we have camping plans and , maybe a short backpack, providing I can decide where to go and whether or not it's cold and sunny or wet and windy. We don't really want wet and windy.</span><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-44930545335546845952022-01-22T21:29:00.000+00:002022-01-22T21:29:13.244+00:00Racing The Sun from Hartside Pass<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjtzNOb-1x9ZmFFv2YTILz2cu8mBwQeoINaomBOgtI21uG903oqE-W0f0GGotKCVt0ocOIIQtkatBKzBW4LEoDNxSB5VEh0DIQUHmb_R9Y5JbAgJAaGXqFymCLJMzq5X8gZEM9PAALPsIFOJC9s6lSwPLONdpuEEej0tASwEiN9u6eiPHWTPd2W0jU3BA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjtzNOb-1x9ZmFFv2YTILz2cu8mBwQeoINaomBOgtI21uG903oqE-W0f0GGotKCVt0ocOIIQtkatBKzBW4LEoDNxSB5VEh0DIQUHmb_R9Y5JbAgJAaGXqFymCLJMzq5X8gZEM9PAALPsIFOJC9s6lSwPLONdpuEEej0tASwEiN9u6eiPHWTPd2W0jU3BA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Li Yang and Sun setting on Melmerby Fell</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I had it on my List of Things To Do (important caps here) to do some more long walks and early last week me and Li Yang (Li Yang and I) arranged to do "a long walk" on Thursday as she was on holiday and I'm permanently on holiday. It took me a while to work out a route but the result was this little stravaig. Oddly enough, it started at the top of a hill....</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhje2fpqafWwSd3aF2j_dJ_cWkJGMp5DDuLDXEVTspi1zymkSjmQ81KfWA-1l07oVhnA_JcVZScKaFWm0OLhrQiAAfBCW4LxVok778WdPOVphi6rjjlJRWCptxjQ83jqhG1OKAvuGkTO1Qd4HThRaROpzsmgW1z1xnHauO-AFDSFW4HiL8IRd0EWuNjjw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhje2fpqafWwSd3aF2j_dJ_cWkJGMp5DDuLDXEVTspi1zymkSjmQ81KfWA-1l07oVhnA_JcVZScKaFWm0OLhrQiAAfBCW4LxVok778WdPOVphi6rjjlJRWCptxjQ83jqhG1OKAvuGkTO1Qd4HThRaROpzsmgW1z1xnHauO-AFDSFW4HiL8IRd0EWuNjjw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise from Hartside</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMvjP-PRd-vfYmFMO6Msfn60y-gD81SvHOPv0bkR8V04AfU14r6pJGiVcrntrFLjd-5KbZgiEkwjPOEH01kWS3IaUEfVpMuJgV2DLpQObwBGjDs29zk2o0inmUWtyuyBF4LLmxr-B7gaU_WCjTLEym9McUoMW1Qc3JOx7U6BWJiOn4S8I1JpcPjm7kYQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMvjP-PRd-vfYmFMO6Msfn60y-gD81SvHOPv0bkR8V04AfU14r6pJGiVcrntrFLjd-5KbZgiEkwjPOEH01kWS3IaUEfVpMuJgV2DLpQObwBGjDs29zk2o0inmUWtyuyBF4LLmxr-B7gaU_WCjTLEym9McUoMW1Qc3JOx7U6BWJiOn4S8I1JpcPjm7kYQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Li Yang and a cairn</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">We parked at dawn about ten minutes before sunrise in a little quarry near the summit of Hartside pass - a large number of cars and vans could get in here by the way... and headed approximately East over Benty Hill where the boggy bits were frozen hard. This made for relatively fast progress. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As we passed along the ridge, the sun rose, apparently at some speed and proceeded across the sky at a worryingly fast lick - and us still with 20 miles to go. Would we win the race and finish in relative daylight? (Spoiler alert - not much chance of that!)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And just before the ridge drops down into South Tynedale we turned South to Leadgate and then along the road towards Garrigill for "First Lunch" We usually have two "lunch" stops on long walks by the way. My first lunch was most of a pork pie, a banana and chocolate and coffee. LTD's first lunch was doggy biscuits, gravy bones and a little bit of pork pie. Li Yang may have donated some of her lunch as well.....</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlWH_omaA8TSKGb1dvR4nMIqGSTdRZddyH5yrmA3Fe3c9xx62X70yPeConua_Cc7ZZxEEIVSs3DS1IlkPvnqbPtWEL4fh6thE0V-b8kYIARhjRaTCxIcWJBR7aGFUBdPs_rWwDcEyohrnUFiXzDfIB6sjf6zXpMpOt3Go-d4HQekEU3BxG6sQMJVC2iw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlWH_omaA8TSKGb1dvR4nMIqGSTdRZddyH5yrmA3Fe3c9xx62X70yPeConua_Cc7ZZxEEIVSs3DS1IlkPvnqbPtWEL4fh6thE0V-b8kYIARhjRaTCxIcWJBR7aGFUBdPs_rWwDcEyohrnUFiXzDfIB6sjf6zXpMpOt3Go-d4HQekEU3BxG6sQMJVC2iw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Fell - not really very black, in fact</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg82yRVVaFTer32UejZAhR8CPx_fx8QosQKCqoe1y1K_CCMfGHH0Xln7WPCbYGghdLsQceWEzy3yAMkLk0mKY7DhMfKEgxYZ46BBZo95jX_vZLyNOn2JDQFy0j2B2-AvPn41wu1inOmksKsowaHy2CdiF7B52YzHiBSNcZZ725BSBj_PqmbbyWRI0fjpQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg82yRVVaFTer32UejZAhR8CPx_fx8QosQKCqoe1y1K_CCMfGHH0Xln7WPCbYGghdLsQceWEzy3yAMkLk0mKY7DhMfKEgxYZ46BBZo95jX_vZLyNOn2JDQFy0j2B2-AvPn41wu1inOmksKsowaHy2CdiF7B52YzHiBSNcZZ725BSBj_PqmbbyWRI0fjpQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD trying to hypnotise Li Yang into donating some of her butty in Greg's Hut</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The toughest bit of the walk was the public footpath from the Garrigill lane to the bend on the Pennine Way leading up to Greg's Hut. Done Siuth to North, my view of the walk from Greg's Hut to Garrigill is that it's mind-numbingly dull, but, somehow going the other way is more interesting. The Pennine Way gave another section of quite quick walking and we arrived at Greg's Hut for Second Lunch, in my case a beef, tomato and mustard butty and some more chocolate. LTD finished off all Li Yang's doggy biccies and my gravy bones and asked for more. The greedy bugger had also had a fair amount of snow from the remaining patches. </span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifTHcJ0d4i4VUENCzDk8jkGxdqjHp77hbsBvsd8zzGYNPFa3AJlKMb19ou1CslL83nak69w5UrfLJVClXLdLvB-EngSbmlRf4pnMYw--OTBK3sABLKeb49U2sR1UqpqhPy4LUWNAG8FbnbXGhWxfztev3Et8_QRBtE9clnYPlXVP_V5sdm7SFTaMlXfA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifTHcJ0d4i4VUENCzDk8jkGxdqjHp77hbsBvsd8zzGYNPFa3AJlKMb19ou1CslL83nak69w5UrfLJVClXLdLvB-EngSbmlRf4pnMYw--OTBK3sABLKeb49U2sR1UqpqhPy4LUWNAG8FbnbXGhWxfztev3Et8_QRBtE9clnYPlXVP_V5sdm7SFTaMlXfA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greg's Hut</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">As the shadow of Cross Fell began to creep across the Black Burn below, we started on the fabulous Pennine ridge which heads North back towards Hartside, still more than 5 miles distant and, with the sun with only a few feet of sky to traverse until it could dip behind the Lake District, have it's cocoa and crumpets, wind up the cat and put the clock out to drift off into dreamy snoozy sleepy land ready for another busy day tomorrow.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The conditions for walking this ridge were ideal. The ridge is mainly grassy and wide and spacious and, generally easy to walk on and , it could be described as a romp. We made good, fast progress, on the frozen turf , passing cairns and patches of boulders, across the Maiden Way roman road and on to Melmerby Fell where the sun won the race and began to sink smugly behind the Cumbrian Fells and us with several miles still to go.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieW22fySST0Qwd5EThpaf4Iqlp6rPF0wfDSiSjrlO6LctVf6Bmzly8YtsOBNdjcoOIcRe67Z3tLQWVI9QkhGIaMklGPcTrTwqZs-I0ePRw9NjLo50AQEg4wxwnABYBVA3GhHYQYX2d-E22NIs-IbscokgLy3Fp2Pb-czDtLzKAt3F9WwsT-ws7j-_F5w=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieW22fySST0Qwd5EThpaf4Iqlp6rPF0wfDSiSjrlO6LctVf6Bmzly8YtsOBNdjcoOIcRe67Z3tLQWVI9QkhGIaMklGPcTrTwqZs-I0ePRw9NjLo50AQEg4wxwnABYBVA3GhHYQYX2d-E22NIs-IbscokgLy3Fp2Pb-czDtLzKAt3F9WwsT-ws7j-_F5w=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Li Yang heads North</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmgRczKXQ5RjHvPS9RetdDuFlya59eOg0KMGEPodDkmxPz8GChIrog1Ih3gZqkdDwYlOiEECqfT_EgmuU6ZmCdgBb7up2CavQ3I7xiGsTUZH5TPg8EkWCU7NVLfn2vKFx0iksHEPFrUltaOwk7rzJitFC8EPAnypCP-ol3S5psgAKjhkJxbXLCIssNIw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmgRczKXQ5RjHvPS9RetdDuFlya59eOg0KMGEPodDkmxPz8GChIrog1Ih3gZqkdDwYlOiEECqfT_EgmuU6ZmCdgBb7up2CavQ3I7xiGsTUZH5TPg8EkWCU7NVLfn2vKFx0iksHEPFrUltaOwk7rzJitFC8EPAnypCP-ol3S5psgAKjhkJxbXLCIssNIw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cairns...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvhsToJTU_OHfQLzfww4Vi_R_Y24HsPz_RfhvNHAG7D6-mI4296-2M9cTU4x3fLBEo497qLt0YCPCz9DTjdo8a8eFBPKhRsMJEmemyMRsO-LydmkfSScvrn4N4_9MlE_keTXDttmA0ZTthIxJga0BKtv9nMdI7Oz0L4epUNxglMRixUR31Z7XKIMMeQw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvhsToJTU_OHfQLzfww4Vi_R_Y24HsPz_RfhvNHAG7D6-mI4296-2M9cTU4x3fLBEo497qLt0YCPCz9DTjdo8a8eFBPKhRsMJEmemyMRsO-LydmkfSScvrn4N4_9MlE_keTXDttmA0ZTthIxJga0BKtv9nMdI7Oz0L4epUNxglMRixUR31Z7XKIMMeQw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another cairn!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiTkDlASYHR4czPas5_cUNqnPlG2rDmTid24yp_6zpMRs4LpnrsSh79GUplJzfhHzdS0umcZ4vMD-r_APdjtEmgtWAS6KBUEw4Qw74QIZvPl6YxarIzvvhXKJd3gR3DKHmXtDs9oW59btWi6BjXlU-fM0GU-SDe8XdgPUDMgDzVY8ayiXnkJl0HoSAR_w=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiTkDlASYHR4czPas5_cUNqnPlG2rDmTid24yp_6zpMRs4LpnrsSh79GUplJzfhHzdS0umcZ4vMD-r_APdjtEmgtWAS6KBUEw4Qw74QIZvPl6YxarIzvvhXKJd3gR3DKHmXtDs9oW59btWi6BjXlU-fM0GU-SDe8XdgPUDMgDzVY8ayiXnkJl0HoSAR_w=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD enjoys some snow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQVbct9U5z51Sc9HYxkzAE4J6voXw9ABNHCmwZgi6roL3uYWFxkysMX1k0g2yAC42jq0j2jOXQXG30Ynng97k8gpWuecT7dvSgZnUzN3nSe5RJoxNFziU94rCH21814TIrwamOh8Xi_ZJn6VU4cmTevJLsDLhpORQ--d9wvRqYOp9YH8gmdnyncN_eNQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQVbct9U5z51Sc9HYxkzAE4J6voXw9ABNHCmwZgi6roL3uYWFxkysMX1k0g2yAC42jq0j2jOXQXG30Ynng97k8gpWuecT7dvSgZnUzN3nSe5RJoxNFziU94rCH21814TIrwamOh8Xi_ZJn6VU4cmTevJLsDLhpORQ--d9wvRqYOp9YH8gmdnyncN_eNQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun is starting to set over the Lake District</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">We were treated to a fine sunset. In fact, we were bust taking pictures when it might have been wiser to press on. In the other hand, it would go dark anyway and the really wise thing to do was to witness this moment. From sunset to "lights on" must have been about 40 minutes. We came off the hill towards Alston Moor and found a stripe of yellow through the heather which marked the track of an old tramway which leads directly back to the quarry containing the knipemobile.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjv602EJsLOWhqFWUeDYA08vvFY1u7FYJ6J78Dyc6bRB_VE0GIrrdsj7qr5xqRI2VM2MB7sw0qlyV-0_mhA7dn5-2IkY5oGgBPvBux5Brjg8IlabRY1PaiNLE5W5WMlrLuqawg98mmedgIixx9CKLqFZlHmpGJ0Zkq2U1eiuY3ic-DQUaFwaOJnvOXi0w=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjv602EJsLOWhqFWUeDYA08vvFY1u7FYJ6J78Dyc6bRB_VE0GIrrdsj7qr5xqRI2VM2MB7sw0qlyV-0_mhA7dn5-2IkY5oGgBPvBux5Brjg8IlabRY1PaiNLE5W5WMlrLuqawg98mmedgIixx9CKLqFZlHmpGJ0Zkq2U1eiuY3ic-DQUaFwaOJnvOXi0w=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet another sunset shot</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFOpT0Wa7Aza8qg8NfAnM57VMXMGkhHjbyw0dK67mE0B_a9-mc6UPIhsmq2XAq40Z79a7YWnmMJqY-08pQpWEstXWWn1e00B8RSFAJQTnEWRgia-Due28iT97QBteJz_s85NChgFpTEdJeEbfivbwKYHrAiKWXxUYZqDpEgcEfNJFjyyWCJTECIy5SpQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFOpT0Wa7Aza8qg8NfAnM57VMXMGkhHjbyw0dK67mE0B_a9-mc6UPIhsmq2XAq40Z79a7YWnmMJqY-08pQpWEstXWWn1e00B8RSFAJQTnEWRgia-Due28iT97QBteJz_s85NChgFpTEdJeEbfivbwKYHrAiKWXxUYZqDpEgcEfNJFjyyWCJTECIy5SpQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun has gone to bed. Zzzzzzzzzz</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Inevitably, about half a mile along the tramway (which, incidentally, is not much of a path ) we put the head lights on and tramped in the general direction of the main road. Car headlights and tail lights moving along the road gave us an idea of distance and ensured that we couldn't go far wrong.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We finished at half past five. 21 miles (this does count as "long") and 2600 feet of up.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Under instruction from Li Yang , I have to dream up another long walk for early February</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-91623186651751566922022-01-18T19:41:00.002+00:002022-01-18T21:47:53.162+00:00TGO Challenge Stuff Number One<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVZkZk47rchgDHREqLKb9rG0NQNDBYwRauS7p3EZ0-ix5hqZPdgasypYmL4U2MgYE4YY5FHwoKlet2nQFLu3G_7SWeqkwkaIg9b92B3emCW2ye4RM3RN2szBcK_ZOIl9vMts_VZJX08sIPPzRkmv6INgv-No7b5DnGaFOSzBJEclfBUSCgu3ItTZf9CA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVZkZk47rchgDHREqLKb9rG0NQNDBYwRauS7p3EZ0-ix5hqZPdgasypYmL4U2MgYE4YY5FHwoKlet2nQFLu3G_7SWeqkwkaIg9b92B3emCW2ye4RM3RN2szBcK_ZOIl9vMts_VZJX08sIPPzRkmv6INgv-No7b5DnGaFOSzBJEclfBUSCgu3ItTZf9CA=w640-h403" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angle Tarn Camp</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">I wouldn't really recommend camping at Angle Tarn most of the time, particularly in summer. It's usually a very popular spot - probably because it's quite beautiful and pretty easy to find/get to from Patterdale. . It does get really busy and what people are doing with their sewage is a worry and drinking the water might not be such a good idea. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, I needed somewhere for a bit of an early TGO challenge shake-down and a bit of a chill-out and, I suspected that Angle Tarn in January might be fairly quiet. It would be a first foray, for a while in humping a big pack up a hill together with some chilly nights in a serene spot. The excuse, was that this sorta thing is just the sorta thing that might be done on a TGO challenge. It's not really true, though.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZCY3c-c3VKrW4PXZFkGisHxhmYjUyFDGGwl687qkS9CL8v1GzXVybrTpAmvm4boxXHpcOmzKd-eQ2AeWRxBRLJHxa5giOPKR9R3GxnHh77Hv4EhGTK7AaLWa-iAI-W_KBQuremDSdElzO71zlEUks6GMyEsh6sZHM0rxunTB_JLTteqWBDV1JVOdJkQ=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZCY3c-c3VKrW4PXZFkGisHxhmYjUyFDGGwl687qkS9CL8v1GzXVybrTpAmvm4boxXHpcOmzKd-eQ2AeWRxBRLJHxa5giOPKR9R3GxnHh77Hv4EhGTK7AaLWa-iAI-W_KBQuremDSdElzO71zlEUks6GMyEsh6sZHM0rxunTB_JLTteqWBDV1JVOdJkQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD helps an old chap up a hill<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, a few days earlier I had submitted my Route sheet for vetting and all I had to do now was chew some fingernails to see what my vetter would say about my plans. Last year, me and JJ completed a necessarily quite easy route, for lots of reasons, all simple, but in several reasonable layers. This year, my planned route is a fairly standard low-level affair with a few rufty-tufty bits interspersed with tea rooms, but probably a bit more of a challenge than 2021. My rule for tea rooms is "never pass a tearoom" Passing a tea-room is bad form and very very unlucky.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia3HbFScX1kZpnCyrXvS_mqdAHiA5o3zmSRz5fkGzGouvfNUsNi3BGgGfEdLoo1BzCsjSKnojqZXGBdS1BPbQpJf1u3kx5pct40UcCofUHQY7LdotRe8zZNOrfCg2Xwz-1F0Nw1z4JRHSWcqElg2oh8NHYpl-U9T3t7A8upc8pruMOtKVMf5Dw-vsQ3Q=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia3HbFScX1kZpnCyrXvS_mqdAHiA5o3zmSRz5fkGzGouvfNUsNi3BGgGfEdLoo1BzCsjSKnojqZXGBdS1BPbQpJf1u3kx5pct40UcCofUHQY7LdotRe8zZNOrfCg2Xwz-1F0Nw1z4JRHSWcqElg2oh8NHYpl-U9T3t7A8upc8pruMOtKVMf5Dw-vsQ3Q=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not Angle Tarn, it's just a puddle on the way</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4v2NYMm2tOA4qjNom9Fr78iA5qjpct_E7Vi1A974ZSB1ejXGf5i4atIYBYd_DMtDHvRS3kdsSEwHyJybxP9lhfxlNd2Ufh_YecfL48ox9af95w1Kb3onawO8HBOHMhkDfFMIxd0c9lU0099PGOoJklZUx41H_BiezK9Zhe0MzR3X5SBsCEV-F6b_AnA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4v2NYMm2tOA4qjNom9Fr78iA5qjpct_E7Vi1A974ZSB1ejXGf5i4atIYBYd_DMtDHvRS3kdsSEwHyJybxP9lhfxlNd2Ufh_YecfL48ox9af95w1Kb3onawO8HBOHMhkDfFMIxd0c9lU0099PGOoJklZUx41H_BiezK9Zhe0MzR3X5SBsCEV-F6b_AnA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This IS Angle Tarn and that's my kettle</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, the plan is to do a fair bit of training before the start of the TGO challenge (in just 111 days, apparently) (If you're reading this tomorrow, it'll be 110 days and the day after tomorrow will be..... I expect you get the drift...) And Angle Tarn was the target. I expected and planned for stupidly cold January weather, but instead I got warm sunshine - provided one stayed out of the breeze, moonlit nights with only the lightest frost and a final morning of wet hill-fog. I read Just William and The Great Outdoors Magazine, drank tea and whisky, snacked and wandered about the local hillocks and drumlins with no plan at all.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile, LTD followed me about , but, generally, in between chewsticks, sat watching the tarn and chasing off the occasional labrador.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAF5x4Pe1sIVdiQDesXsOsxZaelW2qPMLTTs3N6fTxsrGiVXrCRHwbeQr3nUU4psw9JZrwe3rOfN9s8uso7t4KIZ8rgIMbxhSsf8OaroEQ8eJTbZ66Bos8vELXRL4tR1W2iXsH0AuRBSD0xLHnz5dn4ot78h6NtozweDDU6NHKNJXPI-weNH6s9f9UHg=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAF5x4Pe1sIVdiQDesXsOsxZaelW2qPMLTTs3N6fTxsrGiVXrCRHwbeQr3nUU4psw9JZrwe3rOfN9s8uso7t4KIZ8rgIMbxhSsf8OaroEQ8eJTbZ66Bos8vELXRL4tR1W2iXsH0AuRBSD0xLHnz5dn4ot78h6NtozweDDU6NHKNJXPI-weNH6s9f9UHg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD on guard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCAgUOpHI79qoN2PaT9zF4WYNYzO2dbHg-q25IUQfHXV5oHZ0XR22VuqHkDEJ48UUW1wz_5Cfzp8rThEs-7BpgfdQ90OC_qlOnWd5RmQYcOn1MwNvio8QuHnerEr3guRG5dAjq6JH5dI1BdlDC7TksWX3u5RkGLqtdxCI_6orlUXZmvPhM8_K2WSYaXA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCAgUOpHI79qoN2PaT9zF4WYNYzO2dbHg-q25IUQfHXV5oHZ0XR22VuqHkDEJ48UUW1wz_5Cfzp8rThEs-7BpgfdQ90OC_qlOnWd5RmQYcOn1MwNvio8QuHnerEr3guRG5dAjq6JH5dI1BdlDC7TksWX3u5RkGLqtdxCI_6orlUXZmvPhM8_K2WSYaXA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A strangely quiet Angle Tarn camp</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">As I put up the Akto, a fisherman visited and told me all about the fish he hadn't caught and a few hikers - not more than half a dozen, wandered past and then a lass appeared, doffed off and paddled into the tarn for a swim. She said she hoped she hadn't disturbed me and wandered off home. Apparently she swims somewhere every day. I suspect it would have been one doggy-paddle too far for me and both me and LTD stayed away from cold water, unless filling a water bag or in the case of LTD, having a drink. LTD hates water and the very last place to search if he'd disappeared would have been in the tarn.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7ZS-H9m9iNXyFhV4Q0a0UzjSDjuGVLaEdAcSOzIEk82KQKy5szfK9nt_YrSp-BneMoEySUxD4kEdjnza8vQKWJAuXuEDo4SSknXcdz-ciczuwPPwDwq78tx6ek2V4EktoiQtiE1WgqVmw1lpFE46Oj1D6gDYi8dPFDKyzdiw8tuzBaCOllEOPNd4tWA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7ZS-H9m9iNXyFhV4Q0a0UzjSDjuGVLaEdAcSOzIEk82KQKy5szfK9nt_YrSp-BneMoEySUxD4kEdjnza8vQKWJAuXuEDo4SSknXcdz-ciczuwPPwDwq78tx6ek2V4EktoiQtiE1WgqVmw1lpFE46Oj1D6gDYi8dPFDKyzdiw8tuzBaCOllEOPNd4tWA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helvellyn</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYWzzSvxh1Yb5KFafV_VrrsuvgVnEYu5ybB1itzm5_z-yqwTApn-dcI-kMZ1fQ8EOk55ayLROmgWxp9julN5VYAczZZddNFJaevQsVScUjE6bSAikYC-er1sMMsw56oNwD_DALdljo_N3KaqP0FsnhCGM56kQQYfAgN9k5JkJIaYPx0i3WS4KUkkLXQg=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYWzzSvxh1Yb5KFafV_VrrsuvgVnEYu5ybB1itzm5_z-yqwTApn-dcI-kMZ1fQ8EOk55ayLROmgWxp9julN5VYAczZZddNFJaevQsVScUjE6bSAikYC-er1sMMsw56oNwD_DALdljo_N3KaqP0FsnhCGM56kQQYfAgN9k5JkJIaYPx0i3WS4KUkkLXQg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What sort of person lives here?</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">During the beautiful and long starry, moonlit night, where the tent door stayed open, we were visited by a stag, or maybe two. They were close but invisible. We hunkered down before 5:00 p.m. and, pretty much stayed put till 8:30 a.m. The sun finally lit the tent at 9:30 a.m and the first walkers didn't appear until after lunchtime. And these were very few. - Maybe less than a dozen all day, mostly with dogs and mostly heading for High Street, it would seem. I expect they all had a fab day on the hills. Me and LTD did little. apart from some brief excursions around the tarn</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnsqRpQBTrS2pbbpmTLekZDbdn0R7FwqU3rrgZTTuNnIqhQuaLMuiSNCKGsNQoMlBHiP1KdYiQpWJcyy68KuLap0rnr_2PDkAIBRulsBY1tJ32EvaJPYJguhkNoQI799X0gwh8uafP7nfSh_CxSU78EXGXbYTXMnlJ2y6tRc16RlBUIbK2lGBsv-yIuQ=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnsqRpQBTrS2pbbpmTLekZDbdn0R7FwqU3rrgZTTuNnIqhQuaLMuiSNCKGsNQoMlBHiP1KdYiQpWJcyy68KuLap0rnr_2PDkAIBRulsBY1tJ32EvaJPYJguhkNoQI799X0gwh8uafP7nfSh_CxSU78EXGXbYTXMnlJ2y6tRc16RlBUIbK2lGBsv-yIuQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD excited about a ripple on the tarn</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">The last morning dawned grey and drizzly and neither of us really felt like going anywhere. Going somewhere when the morning is driech and cold is a key TGO challenge state of mind. Sometimes driech and cold, or,, even worse, wet and windy and cold, can go on for days in Scotland, so it's important to be able to foray forward on the next day's progress towards the East....</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A few more walkers were encountered on the way back down to the valley. And my vetter has vetted and, apart from getting the name of a burn wrong, I'm pretty much good to go. Emma, my vetter, has pointed out several useful bits of information , including, importantly, the location of tea rooms and informal shelters and all that now remains is to stay alive, get a bit fitter, do some camping with walking involved and book some trains and stuff.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjibNsLuzIpy_ldzYE80SoROozizsM43wRnzowDGnESgtGSW8Kj4fHHv9wpNXV632sj3NkYYDzgtUmU4QHcT7k1XVzXHhylzzWz9nhCk9JawYCazeGK5NbyTZI2c9SMT_cJs29raq2JQ75SOdKtDth0SIuSAHYDVfUJonP6yLEqolXoF9XMDX84_e80wA=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjibNsLuzIpy_ldzYE80SoROozizsM43wRnzowDGnESgtGSW8Kj4fHHv9wpNXV632sj3NkYYDzgtUmU4QHcT7k1XVzXHhylzzWz9nhCk9JawYCazeGK5NbyTZI2c9SMT_cJs29raq2JQ75SOdKtDth0SIuSAHYDVfUJonP6yLEqolXoF9XMDX84_e80wA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD still on guard.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">Note that doggies are not allowed on the TGO challenge and if you need to know what TGO challenge is, look <a href="https://www.tgochallenge.com/" target="_blank">here</a> (click on the word "here") dhuhh..........</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-YVT4a4MqXTixOnboAZp-kLb_VtAtTEmD8djVufuExJ17Ksr31NeWzrkz7fCPzIWQaqdDWsXdw1egzQ-Ea02Mxb0rFF-fZC4bTnlwPjmWS9y2YHJGzHrj7FXY8ks5qlRRIvR3-EauoXTaBO8dYKi-VGO3diLvX-kp-73SFakyUUls6ROppdUrVdx-Qg=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-YVT4a4MqXTixOnboAZp-kLb_VtAtTEmD8djVufuExJ17Ksr31NeWzrkz7fCPzIWQaqdDWsXdw1egzQ-Ea02Mxb0rFF-fZC4bTnlwPjmWS9y2YHJGzHrj7FXY8ks5qlRRIvR3-EauoXTaBO8dYKi-VGO3diLvX-kp-73SFakyUUls6ROppdUrVdx-Qg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD helps an old chap back down the hill</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-75599159814747227522022-01-06T14:41:00.000+00:002022-01-06T14:41:22.549+00:00Socially Distant and Well Ventilated in the North Pennines<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0gvTCxo3NE76orjUwMCUoFfkfC3GCGpBD5HDTKSnXMfoFiKjCbrT0GfL5p6_KpTetll66fR_dcIWIbvtAn1xcmo_uqBUxW3RcUIgLkToklfGITAAxrVSMYhVbpUmfwEHLmOv9UB0Aq1rFd3s0Xm59ZkZpaPRWmx1IIRBP8lql40iNOpjMT3r3sneB3A=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0gvTCxo3NE76orjUwMCUoFfkfC3GCGpBD5HDTKSnXMfoFiKjCbrT0GfL5p6_KpTetll66fR_dcIWIbvtAn1xcmo_uqBUxW3RcUIgLkToklfGITAAxrVSMYhVbpUmfwEHLmOv9UB0Aq1rFd3s0Xm59ZkZpaPRWmx1IIRBP8lql40iNOpjMT3r3sneB3A=w486-h316" width="486" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my shadow<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm slightly ashamed to say that I made this walk up on the hoof, as it were. I was supposed to be having a hill-bagging day around some diminutive Tumps (look it up!) around Roadhead, at the English/Scottish border just a bit to the right of Carlisle. However, circumstances conspired against this:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Firstly, it was a nithering sort of morning and, with LTD gently snoring and farting next to me on the bed, we lounged a bit late.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then, Mrs Pieman's car handbrake decided to declare independence and set itself to an "on" position, rendering the vehicle fairly useless as a vehicle. So this introduced some delay.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was also suffering from Procrastination Lethargy, a lesser known/identified but common syndrome notorious for inducing indecision, faffing and a desire for yet another cup of tea.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But it was a lovely winter's day of blue skies a frost, so, eventually....</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtmglPZ4YQP3AVDNVt25nnt8j20ETyj-eKZS07AboBam80sRI2oJKTUXgnp7V20waJsiQirJVCAkwC3qRHpS-RZ_P7wMbgeqbEuvCG0Jbelx_EXzM46VFrfiramqLHb925wJDgeW4sErig9qeS701BER-R1tNDRiolECND_YfzB3zDG8nQMPDzDM8zGA=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtmglPZ4YQP3AVDNVt25nnt8j20ETyj-eKZS07AboBam80sRI2oJKTUXgnp7V20waJsiQirJVCAkwC3qRHpS-RZ_P7wMbgeqbEuvCG0Jbelx_EXzM46VFrfiramqLHb925wJDgeW4sErig9qeS701BER-R1tNDRiolECND_YfzB3zDG8nQMPDzDM8zGA=w470-h324" width="470" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD spots something interesting in the distance</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwzyOooIMH-XyMuwj7OcnwG-ciqE_JuIUKYSsnYz4_AAm7u-YNn7u802xTxC8gf2kLPuj1afZIYnBkIWO-u3jNocXZ8wPNOzcwEwejN31ItztV23qucgLRCVwa_XeEUozaE6GAYr6vGWRNI9C7fMZYdT37EZfNjyTZriSv840c0rPU63WWST8Zgp88Yw=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwzyOooIMH-XyMuwj7OcnwG-ciqE_JuIUKYSsnYz4_AAm7u-YNn7u802xTxC8gf2kLPuj1afZIYnBkIWO-u3jNocXZ8wPNOzcwEwejN31ItztV23qucgLRCVwa_XeEUozaE6GAYr6vGWRNI9C7fMZYdT37EZfNjyTZriSv840c0rPU63WWST8Zgp88Yw=w450-h311" width="450" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD also does this on carpets in banks, shops and hotels</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ8fPmxkqY7_wMt_okHJjnyOwbJC6CdkPZXddCH64cbpbXWqB75Swwv4EcG2n9-D2pHZ3ee6isAl7khYytuhwTWX3KKybeMFGlMJE_U19LG1FLetDA6AFK42zpHd9eoiHDfchrEL9veCRqG5xloOmRta8t76ODOJHCdwvgAUqn4CxVQTjXrjjmB33_iw=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ8fPmxkqY7_wMt_okHJjnyOwbJC6CdkPZXddCH64cbpbXWqB75Swwv4EcG2n9-D2pHZ3ee6isAl7khYytuhwTWX3KKybeMFGlMJE_U19LG1FLetDA6AFK42zpHd9eoiHDfchrEL9veCRqG5xloOmRta8t76ODOJHCdwvgAUqn4CxVQTjXrjjmB33_iw=w430-h300" width="430" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD leads the way<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">... we rolled up at Stanhope with a vague intention of wandering as far as Bolt's Law, with an approach via the North bank of the River Wear and on paths to Rookhope and then up the old railway incline which now serves as part of the coast to coast cycle route. I expect that, on a bike, this would be tortuous... </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This plan soon fell to bits and I found myself on a minor road heading uphill in the general direction of Rookhope. Just two cars passed in the same number of miles. Soon, I was invited on to the open moor, which I knew lead up to the summit of Crow Coal Hill. The invitation, of course, came from the hill itself. There was no stock around and, for wildlife, I spotted a rabbit some distance away, so LTD came off the lead and immediately turned into his "puppy" mode - rolling about and bouncing around like a ..er.... puppy. I followed him up the hill. The snow wasn't too deep and had been scoured away by strong winds, leaving small drifts behind each tussock. Nevertheless, in "winter fitness" mode, I thought it was hard work.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSvA4SPKFWda6M7A_VhP0dWZzkyaf3JkoRUdBfxrG8klm1mGBFw4TR-eBuyQBeHA2Nq20KFn_YqCef6_yl4y9ue74du6Q3gxxPKqfxpaLYvfiaYVTDOrQMvhtyFtZa4a8N2Ed7I1cnsAIiJc1kOdEruzEwhjzmkLxPXe9muiCv6Qq93tyQcqFmdW-wUw=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSvA4SPKFWda6M7A_VhP0dWZzkyaf3JkoRUdBfxrG8klm1mGBFw4TR-eBuyQBeHA2Nq20KFn_YqCef6_yl4y9ue74du6Q3gxxPKqfxpaLYvfiaYVTDOrQMvhtyFtZa4a8N2Ed7I1cnsAIiJc1kOdEruzEwhjzmkLxPXe9muiCv6Qq93tyQcqFmdW-wUw=w493-h321" width="493" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD finds some deeper snow</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8d28LmywkhV-Xj-KI4ephkAhoPV4kURFSC9hbdVYG7Gw1PGUbUIphwyqtknrcDwDiuZSQW0gI6u_-rHuUNZKCWqkPrVzvn_3tU5q3xus98bpJ0iuLR2rVAXqjNp6OqtoeuB9UAkrIo_jjLul0wHF8BoBVdCIxKlDmTiZYMB21R5RWV2mesgcuE2Hucw=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8d28LmywkhV-Xj-KI4ephkAhoPV4kURFSC9hbdVYG7Gw1PGUbUIphwyqtknrcDwDiuZSQW0gI6u_-rHuUNZKCWqkPrVzvn_3tU5q3xus98bpJ0iuLR2rVAXqjNp6OqtoeuB9UAkrIo_jjLul0wHF8BoBVdCIxKlDmTiZYMB21R5RWV2mesgcuE2Hucw=w474-h300" width="474" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tussocks and driftlets towards Rookhope</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To get to the railway line/ctoc route means following the wide ridge over Long Hill and Long Law in a generally Northerly direction. The snow was deeper here and ground beneath it rougher and heatherier and boggier. So this took some time. A shepherd passed on his ATV. I suspect that the sun was in his eyes, so he didn't seem to see me. A long plod followed, sometimes made easier by the tracks of ATV's and, eventually, we arrived at the railway line, which was bordered by big snowdrifts. All this had taken some time, and I had to collect Mrs Pieman in Crook since her car was now in the garage and , time being shortened and , there being an ideal excuse not to bash through the deep snow and tussocks up Bolt's Law we just walked past Bolts Law and followed the line to Park Head and then down to Stanhope through Ashes Quarry.</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYJvxIojbry9-poDPtsP_G7VYYX5a258MExRMQYz3WJZxNrv2dABsC1x-umV_gB2qgO7kB5dBysSzmlUCaWByurYbAwDjNz82nt5GYh5MXLqECevJaUqU_6X3j0gIfFzq-wWhqVjCIDPnR-dFigSuGmiceXRsct_gzBhgTjP3mJ71rH8xNswYZcAVm7g=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYJvxIojbry9-poDPtsP_G7VYYX5a258MExRMQYz3WJZxNrv2dABsC1x-umV_gB2qgO7kB5dBysSzmlUCaWByurYbAwDjNz82nt5GYh5MXLqECevJaUqU_6X3j0gIfFzq-wWhqVjCIDPnR-dFigSuGmiceXRsct_gzBhgTjP3mJ71rH8xNswYZcAVm7g=w443-h294" width="443" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunching spot by a random cairn<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_8PeIQSdB1FCZcRn7nQJmR7gmcShXsLJxfNOi1moG_o0Qi5475r7sC9GhkHbwi2PQyG1-qjxvhOYTyiMUrOVT6-aZbRQy9uKaUCjhDomug21zLrzqs1L_bzf6SQyu6F7GlsucChXsNy5CZmTORj8uYj00_i4wfUN9KcYDwuWaoCRoakWW9Lte0k9UaA=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_8PeIQSdB1FCZcRn7nQJmR7gmcShXsLJxfNOi1moG_o0Qi5475r7sC9GhkHbwi2PQyG1-qjxvhOYTyiMUrOVT6-aZbRQy9uKaUCjhDomug21zLrzqs1L_bzf6SQyu6F7GlsucChXsNy5CZmTORj8uYj00_i4wfUN9KcYDwuWaoCRoakWW9Lte0k9UaA=w424-h300" width="424" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tussocks all point South</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYkUJo3THw2OmdiQteNCmNhHyaxpKBRyS3EN_Os9njoEpkAlsWcwPN-DumEH_cWZrdwkTrLT3NCt8sZVb5B8K77VO7swbcjMeAQ9v_FVh3tcdMRzzvNGpkIOzYP3amlhiqJI2rw5uzWCAjsNket15USSbu-hXg8WC49kLFVucKPd4CuBrOTjFJA6Xsew=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYkUJo3THw2OmdiQteNCmNhHyaxpKBRyS3EN_Os9njoEpkAlsWcwPN-DumEH_cWZrdwkTrLT3NCt8sZVb5B8K77VO7swbcjMeAQ9v_FVh3tcdMRzzvNGpkIOzYP3amlhiqJI2rw5uzWCAjsNket15USSbu-hXg8WC49kLFVucKPd4CuBrOTjFJA6Xsew=w414-h300" width="414" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cairn at Longlaw End</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">Details of those met on the walk (12 miles) - hill-walkers = 0, shepherds on ATV's with dogs =2, keeper on a JCB = 1 Dog walkers near Stanhope = 2 Other walkers near Stanhope = 1. If the above, encounters within 4 metres = 5 of which 3 waved and 2 had a chat. One dog barked at LTD.</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivccuz-nev293XEOSpCH5G0pHZq_l7CYGh770-jjjSfjOBOMHPJgZ9efAS9CclzhvbXOyypXtR4I6YCfEuqXbLuX-JGv2IXWckBiiajpEIMqdIZare4et9bIv0KZu_0vdOk1wIg37CGlIP4f9XiiCvSlSBsEQq2d1KuuNkeOi_gIm0yHT2PC-eFZt0-A=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivccuz-nev293XEOSpCH5G0pHZq_l7CYGh770-jjjSfjOBOMHPJgZ9efAS9CclzhvbXOyypXtR4I6YCfEuqXbLuX-JGv2IXWckBiiajpEIMqdIZare4et9bIv0KZu_0vdOk1wIg37CGlIP4f9XiiCvSlSBsEQq2d1KuuNkeOi_gIm0yHT2PC-eFZt0-A=s400" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site of the Rookhope Incline engine house/winch... and a snowdrift</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQmbTps49Kk93FbgFjjN1VACikLk14MPB8r7T1cOhSK1_Q7cjdlfKv618xkOI8DNVjDmoKFpI9iGMpxnAW2Yoi4UuTq3IUyVnXedgbSyK82C0iXuwwA0UOyRE_1VE332FnkTQDSAembity6WIHBXOYkVFc0ai5-S_4Z55b2PwnZkInljfgi0MLPVaRbw=s1000" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQmbTps49Kk93FbgFjjN1VACikLk14MPB8r7T1cOhSK1_Q7cjdlfKv618xkOI8DNVjDmoKFpI9iGMpxnAW2Yoi4UuTq3IUyVnXedgbSyK82C0iXuwwA0UOyRE_1VE332FnkTQDSAembity6WIHBXOYkVFc0ai5-S_4Z55b2PwnZkInljfgi0MLPVaRbw=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pile of white stuff<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">Then it went dark. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Not a bad start to the year, although, technically speaking, this was the third walk of the tear, the previous two being a long doggy walk from home and a pleasant, if muddy, but easy trundle beside the Wear at Durham with Crook and Weardale Ramblers</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGDtxpgsyjndsn79N4zYvFaxryINTL-FuFyiTKQszurzpZF5-kp9T8VFAj7E4krftSbT5lOxgFRRlNwozZ0OSHuCiFq9jVM3kC9o6BRtzIz3YMPx9JxSBP9pcL2gPkC4JnaRI6b4IBehjG7HfXO5_mKLlSLKdXQFbpSfgzxZJebQyiH682TuiURgOmYw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGDtxpgsyjndsn79N4zYvFaxryINTL-FuFyiTKQszurzpZF5-kp9T8VFAj7E4krftSbT5lOxgFRRlNwozZ0OSHuCiFq9jVM3kC9o6BRtzIz3YMPx9JxSBP9pcL2gPkC4JnaRI6b4IBehjG7HfXO5_mKLlSLKdXQFbpSfgzxZJebQyiH682TuiURgOmYw=w465-h288" width="465" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD on the railway line (icy!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGmuZPAFzRELnf--dOLZ6bNqySg6086H_V06hIk35OrKWhCXciVhNMjjTpIDmZOVsDlhYsC1ITZxsNpDj6G6Yw3qAe3ImdIJadqvJgQJljS_aO6shsgQXYAp10mLomKnVCRoGT7EbO1S10lQ80vFXVAEnErCvDjFZmRtkEyISU97_Nix-XJ-V2V_Q5OA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGmuZPAFzRELnf--dOLZ6bNqySg6086H_V06hIk35OrKWhCXciVhNMjjTpIDmZOVsDlhYsC1ITZxsNpDj6G6Yw3qAe3ImdIJadqvJgQJljS_aO6shsgQXYAp10mLomKnVCRoGT7EbO1S10lQ80vFXVAEnErCvDjFZmRtkEyISU97_Nix-XJ-V2V_Q5OA=w447-h259" width="447" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then it went dark</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-91597821748561221412022-01-01T23:31:00.001+00:002022-01-01T23:31:28.075+00:00Two Thousand and Twenty Two<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEho5mifYXDfyjdyCsrGGW4gqeXN4ziHJKXTrkt6a0WJl6Qw6qYVnZpFrg1L9UIW26ZBNs04MKAXPhZXwrqKLyYv4pp7xQWkXmGIsKuB2EVHFwnbpo1j0Ppm1_v2-03RlnpS3kVMkGwG_tTUKMTZk1PlUblttuQ0wlYPE_Ad220CZGF2t3DnIurbT68sqQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEho5mifYXDfyjdyCsrGGW4gqeXN4ziHJKXTrkt6a0WJl6Qw6qYVnZpFrg1L9UIW26ZBNs04MKAXPhZXwrqKLyYv4pp7xQWkXmGIsKuB2EVHFwnbpo1j0Ppm1_v2-03RlnpS3kVMkGwG_tTUKMTZk1PlUblttuQ0wlYPE_Ad220CZGF2t3DnIurbT68sqQ=w546-h360" width="546" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ Crossing a wobbly bridge on the 2021 TGO Challenge<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">I've neglected the Pieblog for a while - apparently, since August. But now, there's a New Year's Resolution to start to write again.All the pictures in this blogpost are from 2021, although this is not to say that no pictures are available from 2022, cos there are - it's just that they're not really very interesting. Today's walk was just this afternoon's doggy walk from Pietowers to Fir Tree and Cold Knott and Kitty's Wood; just six and a bit miles in quite nice weather, nothing too exciting, really, so I probably won't ever mention it again. There's a short walk tomorrow too, just about 5 miles around the River Wear at Durham. It's a Crook Ramblers walk and, I suppose breaks the mileage duck for some people. I'm trying not to get too excited about it and I've not mentioned it to LTD in case he can't sleep for thinking about it. At the moment, (subject to an AGM in February), I'm secretary and also temporary footpaths officer for Crook and Weardale Ramblers and, whilst the power and control is going to my head, I'm quite enjoying it and, as it's coming up to this Group's 50th anniversary, I'm hoping to be able to do some significant stuff to celebrate it. Readers who are still awake and/or not wandered off surfing a bit more web, will now have realised that the point of this blog post is to look forwards, and, maybe, back a bit.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZLu57Y0F6-Vj4Oqdqkv7cN1eLa4Lw4Eg78BJsogcY2jd1p94cvgCddKGs8LHj1Epo8VPWxRXdAG1MvLNL1lysJEGTewo404lLKGVSI5cFCRgBGLBLxHpB9IotXpSiMkQQOS306Wbcw8p_ojtrkaJxxG2muA91QGSJwaSPhFvKhPMOz2tIBP8V_HYaAQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZLu57Y0F6-Vj4Oqdqkv7cN1eLa4Lw4Eg78BJsogcY2jd1p94cvgCddKGs8LHj1Epo8VPWxRXdAG1MvLNL1lysJEGTewo404lLKGVSI5cFCRgBGLBLxHpB9IotXpSiMkQQOS306Wbcw8p_ojtrkaJxxG2muA91QGSJwaSPhFvKhPMOz2tIBP8V_HYaAQ=w498-h317" width="498" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter 2021 near Brancepeth</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">On the subject of Blogger - none of the pictures in this blog post are in the order that they were selected. They appear to have been randomly selected by Blogger itself and trying to move them to where they're supposed to be just makes more of a mess. This may well be one of the reasons I drifted off from Blogger. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Any road up, what else might happen in 2022, apart from Rambling with Crook and Weardale Ramblers and Rambling on about the Rambles. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">There's also the Long Walks. Me and LTD and Li Yang and Diane and David have managed a long walk , more or less on a monthly basis during 2021. By long, I mean 20 miles at the shortest. Subject to lockdowns etc, we managed nine of these last year. There are no definite plans , though for any in 2022, except to say that most of last year's were designed and arranged at quite short notice and were mainly in the North Pennines and Yorkshire Dales. Both me and LTD are in our "senior" years and I'm really very pleased that we're both still up to the job.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsGxrjVuSQ1i33IA8_VAbbzEPM8ozlcK25IgHNHJdT-x6y_aT5tOemPrXJ5Q1DroIoAIyIwF-ocPDJOQ82UIy4NBN_EyaCSBgRYZEs0nXuxJ4qKyRO_DD7vANEZWTRbnz_dARNS7VpJbepHkDYqcdkDxqMA5K5ERQzufRBis1SITNy_EpcIvJv0reyuQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsGxrjVuSQ1i33IA8_VAbbzEPM8ozlcK25IgHNHJdT-x6y_aT5tOemPrXJ5Q1DroIoAIyIwF-ocPDJOQ82UIy4NBN_EyaCSBgRYZEs0nXuxJ4qKyRO_DD7vANEZWTRbnz_dARNS7VpJbepHkDYqcdkDxqMA5K5ERQzufRBis1SITNy_EpcIvJv0reyuQ=w506-h357" width="506" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and JJ (JJ and I) in the beach at Lunan Bay Angus at the end of the 2021 TGO challenge</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Then there's the TGO challenge. As I write this rubbish, my route sheet for my proposed walk across Scotland in May 2022 is resting gently in the email in-box in the hostel at Newtonmore, waiting to be sent to a vetter who, once he or she has finished crying and slapping his or her head in disbelief, will come up with some advice or even instructions for me to take head of. Last year's was Covidded into mid June (in order to feed the midgies which had all been having a tough time too) and me and JJ walked from Oban to Lunan Bay on a relatively short easy route which was mainly a result of various circumstances, which, in the end, turned out to be Just The Thing due to JJ just having had a hole drilled in his neck by a neurologist. It was good fun anyway and we camped in some cracking spots and met but a few other TGO challengers. In 2022, my route is a solo effort, and, should I finish it and/or otherwise survive, it will be my 17th TGO challenge. I suspect that JJ's route might coincide with mine at some points. It might be useful for any tyro TGO-ers to follow the progress of my planning and training for this walk. The route is from Dornie (think Eileen Donan Castle on Loch Duich) to Glen Affric to Fort Augustus to Newtonmore to Braemar to Glen Esk to Stonehaven and is about 240 miles in 13 days. I have a couple of backpacking shake-downs planned for the physical and also mental bits of the training - hopefully, one quite soon in the Howgills.</span><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiObxUbiQ_aI6EMqOdDIlmkWH6_6LMys5JRaf66WdIHbQw7JGazlytGPJ_Chw03H4GIel3bGYCQq2jfe0MSofRGj7uk59QEi5Zk6nb1x_r75sO9qbpFpF4cIqZ0bMYHqoBS5CknKoCrHRY6VgeFP3qzovlwh3xWdpe5p2Yf8MfEACvh9MK5PH0i7mQb-g=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiObxUbiQ_aI6EMqOdDIlmkWH6_6LMys5JRaf66WdIHbQw7JGazlytGPJ_Chw03H4GIel3bGYCQq2jfe0MSofRGj7uk59QEi5Zk6nb1x_r75sO9qbpFpF4cIqZ0bMYHqoBS5CknKoCrHRY6VgeFP3qzovlwh3xWdpe5p2Yf8MfEACvh9MK5PH0i7mQb-g=w567-h393" width="567" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp by Loch Dochard in the Black Mount, Argyll 2021 TGO</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVGNMXvifvrgfgceOM2gvbtS-_mmqNgjRuW_ZYOLXI-ug1XFf1LOERCL-a-XxR98ia8qVtB_ECIVVc4B0VrY8LAx1p47CIr1CzI--5_nHkIzlzZ9Rv49h_knrY7-Yy-Md5LrME-TiQWzerJj9m4PBmwU2_AjWxrC_A0jZP9bxEfojQzkSVtvLhQQp01w=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVGNMXvifvrgfgceOM2gvbtS-_mmqNgjRuW_ZYOLXI-ug1XFf1LOERCL-a-XxR98ia8qVtB_ECIVVc4B0VrY8LAx1p47CIr1CzI--5_nHkIzlzZ9Rv49h_knrY7-Yy-Md5LrME-TiQWzerJj9m4PBmwU2_AjWxrC_A0jZP9bxEfojQzkSVtvLhQQp01w=w531-h338" width="531" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ heads off towards Canada - Oban harbour 2021 TGO Challenge<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">Next thing is the Hill-Bagging. In 2021 I managed to bag 107 hills altogether- and this means hills that I've not climbed previously. This is not specially remarkable and I'm hoping to improve on this a bit this year. Last year I managed to complete the Nutalls with the exception of Pillar Rock, the prospect of which scares me witless. The TGO challenge should bag a few new ones, but I'll need to do some trips similar to trips I did last year such as the walks/camps around Comrie and Moniaive, hollibobs in Wales and day walks in the Lakes, Cheviots and the Borders and, if I can be arsed with the A19 traffic, North Yorks Moors</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcn5kF0fVogex29q5yVb0L262uAl1BefMpEIqnIcyWg3K4vpBHlgQvEPjHa4QZS5TJx1RAr_n9LfYPK4lwoTf4WGycLv-pWcfDQecYX61TE9aNLw_uGwZsN1xkHZwfucdRXWyIvjEE0LLKpcuKHIuCAVcKd3Q7MRYAnL1zn80SgfkBMoevK7jittl3fA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcn5kF0fVogex29q5yVb0L262uAl1BefMpEIqnIcyWg3K4vpBHlgQvEPjHa4QZS5TJx1RAr_n9LfYPK4lwoTf4WGycLv-pWcfDQecYX61TE9aNLw_uGwZsN1xkHZwfucdRXWyIvjEE0LLKpcuKHIuCAVcKd3Q7MRYAnL1zn80SgfkBMoevK7jittl3fA=w517-h306" width="517" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD in the Howgills</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUkkMcvw79m784VK6NDAqHN35DpGHHpgL3KeiwvX0tccexR7jPpK6h5IqYwOJJexcBV6hsL72fyUvCmW5ZllWU2NfCKMSGFH9zEZoCj2aIsg33eb0HWYGEUWXw1KYLJGi2qVN3OeNu2lyxFITGSXvm6NKjGUx7gv7_foWZ8UibsGKfczDXARI4wveSkQ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUkkMcvw79m784VK6NDAqHN35DpGHHpgL3KeiwvX0tccexR7jPpK6h5IqYwOJJexcBV6hsL72fyUvCmW5ZllWU2NfCKMSGFH9zEZoCj2aIsg33eb0HWYGEUWXw1KYLJGi2qVN3OeNu2lyxFITGSXvm6NKjGUx7gv7_foWZ8UibsGKfczDXARI4wveSkQ=w507-h284" width="507" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bagging in Cumbria<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">There's other stuff too - For the past few years I've been taking part in the North East Skinny Dip, which happens around the equinox each September and consists of increasing numbers of<strike> daft buggers..</strike>. of people stripping off and running screaming into the waves at Druridge Bay. This is, believe it or not, great fun and it's all proceeds go to Mind, a charity which I've supported on and off on the very blog. In 2021, 850 people did this. That's 1700 buttocks (I'm assuming that almost everybody taking part had two) More people ought to be brave and do this - apart from anything else, it's superb for body confidence and even superberer for the mood. (No comments about the spelling here by the way) So, there'll be more of this sort of thing.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I'm not sure why this isn't titled the "Great North East Skinny Dip" bit there it is. Backslaps for Northumbria County Council for their attitude to this, since they provide space for camping and Druridge Bay is their land anyway. I should add that "some |" people have regular skinny dips in Druridge Bay pretty much all the year round. Local dog walkers seem to be resigned to this.</span></span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicCDk7wpzNfFuzMBkYZBETOhFWwUyTKAf3XWDtGYnXzPcsfn6OyuTODWfV8cDzxw3U8F9oIWWV1VYsmE6BscEsAvdehHBXpklCQT9OVeAj5tu41dJmY6MCr9W7VbzInXjCJ0vVS0PJgVqMDgtU7ROiBWS_PLQXvBqeWVTMxDY5-M_MNkhjvdtxsVkTGg=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicCDk7wpzNfFuzMBkYZBETOhFWwUyTKAf3XWDtGYnXzPcsfn6OyuTODWfV8cDzxw3U8F9oIWWV1VYsmE6BscEsAvdehHBXpklCQT9OVeAj5tu41dJmY6MCr9W7VbzInXjCJ0vVS0PJgVqMDgtU7ROiBWS_PLQXvBqeWVTMxDY5-M_MNkhjvdtxsVkTGg=w487-h281" width="487" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I trusted that this shot was far enough away from anybody to be sure that no actual bits could be seen and recognition would be very difficult. I should add that anybody trying to spot naughty parts or identify anybody needs to get a life, grow up and have a serious word with themselves</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhX-xZNU9Auqzgr3J3tbQzVBNR-JgfCHG_2dftm2ut6BucjFWD75lrUoGZe596Zo_K-ScEakm9ZeUSi43ny-GzGIAr4LDtn4KnFgxr3FVClSR-ZJsVuW0Hw1iHzTS_zx-YppGfoBLMMIoq6_tfEtPkrOPcy7-f1egGqrwID3wacyZc1AKpw53iDj0GmkA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhX-xZNU9Auqzgr3J3tbQzVBNR-JgfCHG_2dftm2ut6BucjFWD75lrUoGZe596Zo_K-ScEakm9ZeUSi43ny-GzGIAr4LDtn4KnFgxr3FVClSR-ZJsVuW0Hw1iHzTS_zx-YppGfoBLMMIoq6_tfEtPkrOPcy7-f1egGqrwID3wacyZc1AKpw53iDj0GmkA=w534-h294" width="534" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Crook Ramblers in the Lake District<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">More other stuff - Last year me and Dawn, and, occasionally including JJ and Margaret managed a trip or two away. Dawn's camps are just that - easily accessible "wild" camps which are necessarily discreet and quite good, restful fun. LTD thinks they're great. I had a couple by myself last year. The pic below is a gill at Arncliffe which contains a remarkable, deep pool of sun-warmed water (in summer!) Its a spectacularly beautiful spot. I camped there for 2 nights and one chap and his dog swam in the pool on the first day and on the second day, a family spent the afternoon sploshing about and exploring the gill. Other than that, me and LTD had the place to ourselves.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisDcDzNvcFbBF17WkBJ1ELh-e5VM6dvnXInHA_nAeD3DsrBEBwL8ppa4ifrImWbbxct04AKrFNpzhHTenHF8Ipz26nFqZmHDzW9TZc_wvGtF0fDZxA0HuTmHZSptNrIZyBqqpjtE8kk1rcXl4kbaYxIkleGU-5dIaNjvQahrfa20UfbhGzO5B9IlO_Ww=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisDcDzNvcFbBF17WkBJ1ELh-e5VM6dvnXInHA_nAeD3DsrBEBwL8ppa4ifrImWbbxct04AKrFNpzhHTenHF8Ipz26nFqZmHDzW9TZc_wvGtF0fDZxA0HuTmHZSptNrIZyBqqpjtE8kk1rcXl4kbaYxIkleGU-5dIaNjvQahrfa20UfbhGzO5B9IlO_Ww=w508-h308" width="508" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Static wild camp at Arncliffe</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiG9vaFtFKwYaxTHNMoNoBLKjJthaAPvdEYOh94q7Wij95NyeUSZUePt0kmu8aBFs2p8jsM9ZkCk3MBgsbD61cjp01nW4oN0d-FK1DAfZTFW9LNQxq5XaD_W8A5nxLLQFsLnnrlUUAFzWtcxaSBE-7utNx_Fn4jeJsdWdFqhvDhZJ6uGUPYQB9GO6lvjA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiG9vaFtFKwYaxTHNMoNoBLKjJthaAPvdEYOh94q7Wij95NyeUSZUePt0kmu8aBFs2p8jsM9ZkCk3MBgsbD61cjp01nW4oN0d-FK1DAfZTFW9LNQxq5XaD_W8A5nxLLQFsLnnrlUUAFzWtcxaSBE-7utNx_Fn4jeJsdWdFqhvDhZJ6uGUPYQB9GO6lvjA=w494-h240" width="494" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galloway with hill-top windfarms</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqmmC0ldaM_8Uk8LuQXGi6j-d3D5jWySCBZPd0Mzab1LQQvYgdIJl4BFDZ3PKHrv5OMcLuxrnRhQtGnZSs40LCQ6CEf6q75naG_iUcZ02XRsyPMRKqDYdWiW5f0TXyQhgILFgzGumFWSt9cFArsr2YCKHCzkRitCrkR4MvC0t76UdPgctrK7wY51KQiw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqmmC0ldaM_8Uk8LuQXGi6j-d3D5jWySCBZPd0Mzab1LQQvYgdIJl4BFDZ3PKHrv5OMcLuxrnRhQtGnZSs40LCQ6CEf6q75naG_iUcZ02XRsyPMRKqDYdWiW5f0TXyQhgILFgzGumFWSt9cFArsr2YCKHCzkRitCrkR4MvC0t76UdPgctrK7wY51KQiw=w490-h240" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="490" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's on Wales!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqmmC0ldaM_8Uk8LuQXGi6j-d3D5jWySCBZPd0Mzab1LQQvYgdIJl4BFDZ3PKHrv5OMcLuxrnRhQtGnZSs40LCQ6CEf6q75naG_iUcZ02XRsyPMRKqDYdWiW5f0TXyQhgILFgzGumFWSt9cFArsr2YCKHCzkRitCrkR4MvC0t76UdPgctrK7wY51KQiw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Thats about it, folks. I'm hoping to post more regularly with progress, specially around the TGO challenge preparations. Obviously, this happens in May, so there'll be other stiff too. All I need to do now is survive............. (double jabbed and boosted and LTD has had his worming tablets</span><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-78424200621859722252021-08-31T22:08:00.003+01:002021-08-31T22:08:49.282+01:00Backpacking Around Glen Lednock<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-dAA7Ns6RY/YS6A0Pcai1I/AAAAAAAAcIw/25xCrRGPA4UoPE6wvwt4n7s_sVB6IRMnACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-dAA7Ns6RY/YS6A0Pcai1I/AAAAAAAAcIw/25xCrRGPA4UoPE6wvwt4n7s_sVB6IRMnACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00478.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD is waiting for his tea on the first night/last sunny evening</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">The countryside just a bit North of Comrie is occupied by a couple of reservoirs, a Munro and a fine selection of heathery/grassy/empty hills. It seems, from my wanderings, which , it has to be admitted, were midweek, that nobody much goes there. Me and LTD parked the knipemobile quite prettily in a car park in Comrie which has a time limit of just 72 hours. This was just about enough</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gMbeH-8SiA/YS6COBTHD2I/AAAAAAAAcI8/GY4oY8f17A4pLHwd2VvOkwQS9oUBOin5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gMbeH-8SiA/YS6COBTHD2I/AAAAAAAAcI8/GY4oY8f17A4pLHwd2VvOkwQS9oUBOin5gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00471.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lord Melville's Monument<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">We began by following the made path to Deil's Cauldron and them foolishly up through stupidly steep woodland to visit Lord Melville's Monument which has a fine view of Comrie if you can see it for the sweat stinging your eyes. Carrying a big backpacking pack up here in the first hours of a trip counted as a mistake. We took to the road. Glen Lednock's road ends at a car park and is quite a nice, level, and easy passage. From the car park, there's a good track....</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CCPN3IqrnIE/YS6COfKOFmI/AAAAAAAAcJA/jpbwLYp7szo6cDw3kwIN6evDeE_F7QyRQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CCPN3IqrnIE/YS6COfKOFmI/AAAAAAAAcJA/jpbwLYp7szo6cDw3kwIN6evDeE_F7QyRQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00475.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Glen Lednock's tracks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAqx55EQtxg/YS6COCxVnAI/AAAAAAAAcI4/PqRQbY9fWSoa01-PgQE5CB7FJpwKNHIYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAqx55EQtxg/YS6COCxVnAI/AAAAAAAAcI4/PqRQbY9fWSoa01-PgQE5CB7FJpwKNHIYQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00476.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite nice, really.....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nzkjYDo4jwI/YS6COq3KTQI/AAAAAAAAcJE/Ig9cYqvSpAglK3frJ9OLOQA5YNU1b3v3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nzkjYDo4jwI/YS6COq3KTQI/AAAAAAAAcJE/Ig9cYqvSpAglK3frJ9OLOQA5YNU1b3v3wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00477.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like wot I said... quite nice<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We passed several attractive-looking camping spots but considered that we hadn't walked far enough until, finally running out of steam, we pitched up at a flat spot beside a stream. As I was putting up the tent, a family passed heading back down the glen. These would be the last huming beans I would see until it was almost time to move the car from the car park. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Note that all references to "we" and "us" above and below, refer mainly to me. Consulting LTD on plans has never been all that productive. I'm just being diplomatic in case he reads this.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L4TtPetksCc/YS6CO6OISNI/AAAAAAAAcJI/gGeehzx-tM0Bi3u_S2oh8UFo1v0x8HhqACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L4TtPetksCc/YS6CO6OISNI/AAAAAAAAcJI/gGeehzx-tM0Bi3u_S2oh8UFo1v0x8HhqACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00479.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of Day 1 There's a dog in there somewhere</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">In the morning (which would have been a Wednesday) (I'm not entirely sure why I mention this, as it happens) we set off about 9:00 a.m and followed the track higher and higher, passing some really nice camping spots, but noting the grouse shooters' infrastructure ... traps and stuff.... and on to Creag Ruadh (crag of the rude man), having a long talk with JJ on the phone on it's East top. Creag Ruadh is 712 metres and is easily achieved. Other tops are available. Passing over to Meall Daimh 690 mtrs (Pudding of the devil) involved some bog-trotting and some random outcrops, but no difficulties. It has some very nice ponds or tarns too... The sun was still shining.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i953zFMbn74/YS6HPbpGsZI/AAAAAAAAcJg/qssQDU7DHEYlbsgbgcdrWiOxP6LZ2n8XQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i953zFMbn74/YS6HPbpGsZI/AAAAAAAAcJg/qssQDU7DHEYlbsgbgcdrWiOxP6LZ2n8XQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00482.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping spots higher up (than we were before)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D2byJTe9xtU/YS6HPPTFX-I/AAAAAAAAcJc/pBHuM-1_lAs9RpgxbtQaIEiAHGe7mfQ-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D2byJTe9xtU/YS6HPPTFX-I/AAAAAAAAcJc/pBHuM-1_lAs9RpgxbtQaIEiAHGe7mfQ-gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00483.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD amuses himself as I chat to JJ on the phone</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EqH0R4JaHwk/YS6HTDyLoMI/AAAAAAAAcJ8/QsXeru19DEwEAuItUPlD0Oc5ZgIkLYxTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s5152/DSC00486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EqH0R4JaHwk/YS6HTDyLoMI/AAAAAAAAcJ8/QsXeru19DEwEAuItUPlD0Oc5ZgIkLYxTgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00486.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Meall Diamh pond or tarn or lochan<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">After Meall Diamh we had to retrace a bit to avoid losing height on our way to Ruadh Meall 682 metres (Hill of the rude meal - so called because it looks a bit like a lady's breast) - at which point it became lunchtime and also at which point me legs mentioned that some of the uphill bits were getting quite hard work. We made hard work of Ruadh Meall which was hard work. The legs did a magnificent job and we're all really proud of them and they'll probably get a medal or something for their sacrifice</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kM_-iWszKSU/YS6HQhOdznI/AAAAAAAAcJk/JWJF5AIg3fsXMN2f6IBmRlwfAPYdz3HSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kM_-iWszKSU/YS6HQhOdznI/AAAAAAAAcJk/JWJF5AIg3fsXMN2f6IBmRlwfAPYdz3HSgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00487.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD lines up to have a wee on a cairn.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enakdLVwt74/YS6HQrkCKiI/AAAAAAAAcJo/xDnE2zc1MlcNUIvTQdn-Q_yFlLLZg3amwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enakdLVwt74/YS6HQrkCKiI/AAAAAAAAcJo/xDnE2zc1MlcNUIvTQdn-Q_yFlLLZg3amwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00489.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD wonders if that hill over there is Ben Vorlich</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E14gIrs-uss/YS6HR45BAtI/AAAAAAAAcJs/HzrkxT9P7pwYMnII9J1CKUN5nMDwapprwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E14gIrs-uss/YS6HR45BAtI/AAAAAAAAcJs/HzrkxT9P7pwYMnII9J1CKUN5nMDwapprwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00491.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some red deer running away<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Having encouraged the legs with some flattery (they're doing a fine job) - staggered over to it's East top (621 metres) where we informed that the legs would regrettably not be available for the forthcoming ascent of Creag Uchdag (Crag of the vomiting dog), due to a previous diary engagement involving not climbing 1000 feet up a big hill. I must admit, that from the East Top, it did look very big. It was here,, that during these negotiations, I found some orange peel and a bit print . These were the first indications of anybody else having been on these hills before. Shouldn't be leaving orange peel about anyway. It's litter. On the map, a stream at the bealach below looked like a camping spot, but the water turned out to be very irony - that is to say, full of iron salts, not smug and a bit amusing.... Another nice spot was found by the Allt na Criche (stream of the day nursery), just a bit South. We settled in and so did the midgies. After tea we visited a nearby top Tom a Mhoraire - about 550 metres. The legs mentioned that there would be no more of this sort of thing or else. During the night, the hill fog and even more midgies rolled in and we battened down and lit smoky coils and drank cheap whisky and listened to rock and roll and did some snoring.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxO4-9BHZFo/YS6HSFRhjlI/AAAAAAAAcJw/qDNOeVhCOjYDZXIUdARbTf0FaTKgrkocACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxO4-9BHZFo/YS6HSFRhjlI/AAAAAAAAcJw/qDNOeVhCOjYDZXIUdARbTf0FaTKgrkocACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00493.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp by Allt na Criche</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4FzIq2fhYoY/YS6HTOzqDkI/AAAAAAAAcJ4/NV0vONobllQiw7fGmWp2mUdE5rPxcJrwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4FzIq2fhYoY/YS6HTOzqDkI/AAAAAAAAcJ4/NV0vONobllQiw7fGmWp2mUdE5rPxcJrwwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00496.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tent seen from Tom a Mhoraire</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ts12WvwtmHw/YS6HTMiWKcI/AAAAAAAAcJ0/pi5tZstxuwAWDjoXu9Nx9KNrKs6PJAnOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ts12WvwtmHw/YS6HTMiWKcI/AAAAAAAAcJ0/pi5tZstxuwAWDjoXu9Nx9KNrKs6PJAnOgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00497.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD in his woofbag Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">In the morning (probably a Thursday by now, I should think) , the clag had clagged even more so we waited a bit to see if it would clear. This meant drinking lots of coffee and a wearing midge hood and lots of deet whilst taking LTD out for a wee.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;">Eventually, we had to leave and get stuck in to the big climb up Creag Uchdag 879 metres (Crag of - oh yeah, we've done that one...) - a 370 metre climb , the top of which could have been almost anywhere for the view of absolutely nothing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CK4iW4nMnRk/YS6N3wjE9aI/AAAAAAAAcKk/-9ys4fPyQd0_C54zTfU9vrWgDT1d77ScgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00498%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CK4iW4nMnRk/YS6N3wjE9aI/AAAAAAAAcKk/-9ys4fPyQd0_C54zTfU9vrWgDT1d77ScgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00498%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LTD and the pack ready to set off</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lqwtn-yJtfc/YS6N3rWGuZI/AAAAAAAAcKc/M0s4eKPx5fYvW2imRBA4noMhXZBDB8jywCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00499%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lqwtn-yJtfc/YS6N3rWGuZI/AAAAAAAAcKc/M0s4eKPx5fYvW2imRBA4noMhXZBDB8jywCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00499%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clag</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BW52cu8ZcLk/YS6N3zc47wI/AAAAAAAAcKg/ZFhltZy7-n44HPB0FeZPUY-ffkZ9Uqd0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00502%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BW52cu8ZcLk/YS6N3zc47wI/AAAAAAAAcKg/ZFhltZy7-n44HPB0FeZPUY-ffkZ9Uqd0wCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/DSC00502%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fence posts</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">The map shows a fence which can be followed. This does not actually exist but some of the fence posts can be spotted in the fog. Some are recumbent. Many are bent and old (we know the feeling....|) and some are missing entirely, so following the fenceposts is what should be done but isn't necessarily all that easy all the time. We followed them easily to Meall Dubh Mor 809 metres (Pudding of the Big Do) (Note that this is evidence of Lancastrian naming systems which clearly pre-date the Gaelic - a "Big Do" being a significant social occasion such as a Royal banquet, a diplomatic dinner involving several heads of state or, indeed, a pub crawl around Skipton. And we managed to find the top of the next hill - Creag nan Eun 850 metres (Crag of Ian's Grandmother) but after that things went a bit <i>astray. </i> The GPS track of the next 800 metres shows some frantic wanderings, mainly in several different directions the main properties of which were that they were all wrong directions. After a while, sanity returned, somehow and we ended up in the correct place - at Ghlas Choirean. The transfer over rufty-tufty moorland to Carn Buidhe and the bealach just below Ben Chonzie convinced the legs that enougn was enough and that anyway, we have to be fairly near to Comrie in the morning to retrieve the car before the 72 hours was up. So we took to the Invergeldie glen which leads back to Glen Lednock and which produced a nice, quiet camping spot in the midst of some shielings.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U-hy5ZBpbss/YS6RnYQPstI/AAAAAAAAcLE/QXNIbsrW6lYOCdo7P5ToysIczV8W_G0xQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U-hy5ZBpbss/YS6RnYQPstI/AAAAAAAAcLE/QXNIbsrW6lYOCdo7P5ToysIczV8W_G0xQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00506.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Invergeldie Glen camping in the shielings</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w2JjBPisLrc/YS6RngjJmyI/AAAAAAAAcLI/UfPk_fvMWl0GqjzC7aDo4ksYcVWtbay_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w2JjBPisLrc/YS6RngjJmyI/AAAAAAAAcLI/UfPk_fvMWl0GqjzC7aDo4ksYcVWtbay_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/DSC00505.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brew with a view</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HGyLxZZkt4Y/YS6Rnj1CPZI/AAAAAAAAcLM/EWlfR3tw5B01PY3aTg_qeNoXuVGfdwJdwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00504%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HGyLxZZkt4Y/YS6Rnj1CPZI/AAAAAAAAcLM/EWlfR3tw5B01PY3aTg_qeNoXuVGfdwJdwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00504%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the bit LTD enjoys the most</td></tr></tbody></table>So we spent the night quietly amongst the shielings. It was a dark night and a slow, cold and grey dawn, and as me and LTD dozed snug in our pits, hoping for the dawn to take a bit longer, and amongst the sound of the loud Invergeldie Burn a child was singing. Just a few notes before being whisht by her Mammy. Then there was no more, just the sound of the burn. No birdsong. No sheep. Nothing at all. There's a memory, though of a sweet little song that made no sense. I probably imagined the whole thing in a half-dream. But here in the shielings, the women brought their children and their cattle and spent a few short summer months and, maybe on a cold and grey morning just like this, the hope for a delay to the start of the day must have been the same as mine and LTD's. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zhkP20oZ2wo/YS6WQl1MCgI/AAAAAAAAcLc/sllej96gJTU29dWa6y4kZxCXO0wFK4gxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zhkP20oZ2wo/YS6WQl1MCgI/AAAAAAAAcLc/sllej96gJTU29dWa6y4kZxCXO0wFK4gxwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00507.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remains of a shieling hut<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">And so we dragged ourselves out of bed and wandered down the track to Glen Lednock, meeting several groups of walkers heading up Ben Chonzie. The fog was still on the hill and they wouldn't have much of a view. Everybody said "hello". A few chatted and mentioned LTD's panniers and one family, completely unequipped asked for route advice and were impressed by the map I showed them (!) I may have advised them badly on the route (I only realised afterwards) - but as they didn't make the news, I expect they managed. We returned to Comrie and had egg butties and coffee (LTD had a wee). I noted the pie shop and the pubs and went back home to Crook....</span></div><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHg1O7Dr47M/YS6WQiPyX0I/AAAAAAAAcLk/t1UidvIUrsQnZ1ryTyZV0MCFdFaHP8txACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHg1O7Dr47M/YS6WQiPyX0I/AAAAAAAAcLk/t1UidvIUrsQnZ1ryTyZV0MCFdFaHP8txACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00509.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clag!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BfqZDOZFFuA/YS6WQljROJI/AAAAAAAAcLg/WPOVIbwbLo0z5fxM4f3Yl2cgDAe3eltfQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BfqZDOZFFuA/YS6WQljROJI/AAAAAAAAcLg/WPOVIbwbLo0z5fxM4f3Yl2cgDAe3eltfQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00510.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drizzle!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1pVCNqg9jAw/YS6WRRjg6LI/AAAAAAAAcLo/KefSapv20NM0GKiqcprjO16bHdXEDzy_wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/DSC00511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1pVCNqg9jAw/YS6WRRjg6LI/AAAAAAAAcLo/KefSapv20NM0GKiqcprjO16bHdXEDzy_wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/DSC00511.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driech!!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This wasn't a major expedition by any means and the mileage was low. If there's a lesson to be learned it is this: That neither me nor LTD are getting any younger or fitter or more able, but we can enjoy a slack-pack and that any pretentions about backpacking lots of hills next summer is probably a bit daft. I can still do a TGO challenge, though. And empty places are the best places.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Just 70 hours by the way.....</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></div>
Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-2612017657549484262021-08-10T22:28:00.000+01:002021-08-10T22:28:02.047+01:00TGO 2021 I'm Not Paranoid I Really Am Being Followed<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zx9JUbfLr_Y/YQ_00W6zbQI/AAAAAAAAcBo/_G4IKQPnEF8PhRngn8iOlArX8xWDa-QSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zx9JUbfLr_Y/YQ_00W6zbQI/AAAAAAAAcBo/_G4IKQPnEF8PhRngn8iOlArX8xWDa-QSwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frightened rabbits aka JJ and J on the refurbished Queen Street station. More challengers in the background</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <span style="font-size: large;">This was The Plan:</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Actually the plan was planned in 2019 for 2020. 2020 was cancelled, obviously, and so, we were to use 2020's plan for 2021, except that in 2020 there would have been three of us - Me, JJ and Margaret aka Beryl. This was to be a shortish route so that Beryl aka Margaret could get back to a wedding which meant we needed to finish on the Tuesday. However, both the wedding and Beryl aka Margaret were cancelled, or at least, postponed so we had a short route for just me and JJ. This was just as well since JJ had some surgery five weeks before the Challenge and a short route would have been needed anyway. It's an ill-wind wot blows your recycling bin away, as we say in Crook.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6TaK0bKses/YQ_2IDrVV9I/AAAAAAAAcBw/UBsoevDNya0T35lNr9X1jjEo07xzVdO3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B006.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6TaK0bKses/YQ_2IDrVV9I/AAAAAAAAcBw/UBsoevDNya0T35lNr9X1jjEo07xzVdO3ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B006.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We began by heading West by mistake</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qWRnbTyIjs/YQ_2ISrsUxI/AAAAAAAAcB0/AtgDEiCAM-s5Z8NhfbifDwtV06gdRh1RQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B011.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qWRnbTyIjs/YQ_2ISrsUxI/AAAAAAAAcB0/AtgDEiCAM-s5Z8NhfbifDwtV06gdRh1RQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B011.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McCain's tower. A bit chipped in places</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">And so, it came to pass, that after almost six hours in Wetherspoons in Oban and a night in Oban Old Fowks Hostel (aka YHA), me and JJ set off at a blistering pace back to Oban Wetherspoons for a well-earned breakfast. And then, and only then did we seek out McCains Folly which was badly placed up a steep hill. The we got lost a bit and eventually found ourselves in Glen Lonan for the long road walk to Taynuilt. Our plan, as amended by Section 3, Para 2 (b) of the Big Plan For 2021, saw us walking only eight of the Queen's miles to a lovely spot just off the road, quite a bit short of Taynuilt. This was NOT A MISTAKE, given that most people would head for Taynuilt at least on Day 1, but our plan was to get there at lunchtime on Day 2. For lunch, see? Smart eh?</span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ItY0ech-nEM/YQ_3g2F8x9I/AAAAAAAAcCM/QoIEBc8Mal49aG0hESIG-OhcM3-H2NuUQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B041.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ItY0ech-nEM/YQ_3g2F8x9I/AAAAAAAAcCM/QoIEBc8Mal49aG0hESIG-OhcM3-H2NuUQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B041.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Midgies can't find us under this bridge</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnDlpwVvPqo/YQ_3g6aE_dI/AAAAAAAAcCI/IZD8EmZ_iTg5TusQpE0Ltk_aaT4lOAasACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B038.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnDlpwVvPqo/YQ_3g6aE_dI/AAAAAAAAcCI/IZD8EmZ_iTg5TusQpE0Ltk_aaT4lOAasACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B038.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Kinglass</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gaHS0nwqpR8/YQ_3ht_3QDI/AAAAAAAAcCQ/af1RBY5DvhsMmsRHgN3Yn-xd39AkRhGHACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B036.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gaHS0nwqpR8/YQ_3ht_3QDI/AAAAAAAAcCQ/af1RBY5DvhsMmsRHgN3Yn-xd39AkRhGHACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B036.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Etive</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1-iBeJzBiqs/YQ_3gdEz7RI/AAAAAAAAcCA/s7mmM4bTDmsL1qVxWssquyy0LI3u2d5sACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B030.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1-iBeJzBiqs/YQ_3gdEz7RI/AAAAAAAAcCA/s7mmM4bTDmsL1qVxWssquyy0LI3u2d5sACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B030.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wobbly Bridge of Taynuilt</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Miu9r0tG5Ho/YQ_3gVcqhII/AAAAAAAAcCE/HrkSuebNWD4Z8gS-0tGoeFF3AnJISi29gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B029.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Miu9r0tG5Ho/YQ_3gVcqhII/AAAAAAAAcCE/HrkSuebNWD4Z8gS-0tGoeFF3AnJISi29gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B029.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shopping</td></tr></tbody></table>Now the odd thing about Blugger is that it loads the pictures in exactly the wrong order and if anybody tries to move a picture, it immediately disappears. But anyway I shall try to continue without having ANY KIND OF WOBBLY.....</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We progressed, exactly as planned unto the fleshpots of Taynuilt where we had lunch in the tearoom there and shopped, diffidently and inefficiently with a lurking and almost seething disappointment around the lack of midgies.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We managed to put this right late that evening in the wilds of Glen Kinglass, where we found a bit of a shortage in the area of camping spots and , due to industrialisation of the place, a completely inaccurate set of maps. This wasn't much bother since, to save weight we had shrunk our maps to such an extent that we couldn't read them anyway. Lots of lovely midgies in Glen Kinglass anyway, which cheered us up no end and resulted in kilt-abandonment and the donning of leggings for the next day which was rainy. The midgie followed us up the glen but gave up as we crossed over to Loch Dochart. It seems that midgies are a bit lazy when it comes to crossing contours.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Time for more pics IN THE WRONG ORDER... (Doesn't bother me at all........)</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aqP6L1A7h9s/YQ_6VyjdDRI/AAAAAAAAcDA/LH3HHaahySkXdULYy8vx6BVvrhginqC4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B085.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aqP6L1A7h9s/YQ_6VyjdDRI/AAAAAAAAcDA/LH3HHaahySkXdULYy8vx6BVvrhginqC4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B085.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Rannoch brew</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3kagVA3JI6w/YQ_6Vo6AIhI/AAAAAAAAcC8/u8Wz_BdYy1coKmnIQ4PORhGFpsJ9SNbrACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B082.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3kagVA3JI6w/YQ_6Vo6AIhI/AAAAAAAAcC8/u8Wz_BdYy1coKmnIQ4PORhGFpsJ9SNbrACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B082.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaargh.... trees........</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rvHI_zxTnQg/YQ_6U-fWF-I/AAAAAAAAcC4/5THkG86hiPkV_ctqfxcvjyfEBXeeugDiwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B080.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rvHI_zxTnQg/YQ_6U-fWF-I/AAAAAAAAcC4/5THkG86hiPkV_ctqfxcvjyfEBXeeugDiwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B080.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ following the tracks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OdXOnZJXYxU/YQ_6Ujmrw4I/AAAAAAAAcC0/1MYurzwxg7AF-cr1WoivX28AryiF3nOigCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B074.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OdXOnZJXYxU/YQ_6Ujmrw4I/AAAAAAAAcC0/1MYurzwxg7AF-cr1WoivX28AryiF3nOigCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B074.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorton Bothy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z52Ulq44LNk/YQ_6T2OWt9I/AAAAAAAAcCw/w3uywi38arklWT6KXhfOViSUE7ZogsatgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B072.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z52Ulq44LNk/YQ_6T2OWt9I/AAAAAAAAcCw/w3uywi38arklWT6KXhfOViSUE7ZogsatgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B072.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping near Gorton bothy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QLevRw69qRU/YQ_6TmlhtiI/AAAAAAAAcCs/QCka21PYtjE9Km613gJhy6-OsDmnotC1QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B066.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QLevRw69qRU/YQ_6TmlhtiI/AAAAAAAAcCs/QCka21PYtjE9Km613gJhy6-OsDmnotC1QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B066.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ on the drove road to Crieff</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7hxYARlJgiY/YQ_6SkypT2I/AAAAAAAAcCo/t3HqGXjx4n4xcAV6hWYTyS1aDbiBRTuEACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B061.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7hxYARlJgiY/YQ_6SkypT2I/AAAAAAAAcCo/t3HqGXjx4n4xcAV6hWYTyS1aDbiBRTuEACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B061.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wobbly bridge number 2</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BcwyOkfKMns/YQ_6WInrncI/AAAAAAAAcDE/6KPmLhDHUik231WFYNQj1X4Av4NvQ58PQCLcBGAsYHQ/s5152/tgo2021%2B055.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BcwyOkfKMns/YQ_6WInrncI/AAAAAAAAcDE/6KPmLhDHUik231WFYNQj1X4Av4NvQ58PQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B055.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Dochart</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TawSz3EwWyw/YQ_6Sc-WLSI/AAAAAAAAcCk/dl0nXQLlEvYYyzwZ4tuFPeRZ1N1LtmkhQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B052.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TawSz3EwWyw/YQ_6Sc-WLSI/AAAAAAAAcCk/dl0nXQLlEvYYyzwZ4tuFPeRZ1N1LtmkhQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B052.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp at Loch Dochart</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Midgieless once again, we battered on to Lochart which, in a warm summer breeze and on a little isthmus, we had a fablious camp. Worra lovely spot.... At some point around here we might have discovered that it was now verboten to travel to or from Manchester. This prompted JJ to mention to anybody he met that he was from Manchester. One person fainted. Another called the police. Most just smiled weakly and took a step or two away.... </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We were soon in the bar at Victoria Bridge, talking to West Highland Wayfarers, playing a guitar and drinking cold and fizzy stuff - and then, not too long after, and finding a spot by the River Shira (named after a Geordie footy player, I expect), we camped with a view of some Big Hills, just a bit short of our target of Gorton Bothy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And in the morning we bashed on through a gap in the forest to Loch Rannoch for a shoreside camp - a bit off-route, but it was hot and we'd marched for a long time through brain stultifying forest. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The plan was to hit Kinloch Rannoch at lunchtime the next day. (Can you spot the pattern here?)</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F8FvEFAi48Y/YQ_8wXPeVII/AAAAAAAAcEA/w5Z4gRvBxREWQkkH-KbfHxHqE0are5qBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B140.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F8FvEFAi48Y/YQ_8wXPeVII/AAAAAAAAcEA/w5Z4gRvBxREWQkkH-KbfHxHqE0are5qBQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B140.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch an Oiseanneach</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7n_gAjDr42M/YQ_8wDmRdDI/AAAAAAAAcD8/-8aG-JLTzjQl4iP9loVuiuI9GGZSKxKGgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B137.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7n_gAjDr42M/YQ_8wDmRdDI/AAAAAAAAcD8/-8aG-JLTzjQl4iP9loVuiuI9GGZSKxKGgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ looking unjustifiably happy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fM9zUBmDhW4/YQ_8v-Sp7jI/AAAAAAAAcD4/oyMI32qSZBAy944dbp6SaJ_iua5-Lk89ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B133.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fM9zUBmDhW4/YQ_8v-Sp7jI/AAAAAAAAcD4/oyMI32qSZBAy944dbp6SaJ_iua5-Lk89ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B133.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading around the back of Schiehallion</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84GtsJ4fN90/YQ_8v0gF9FI/AAAAAAAAcD0/y8ryNQgdal0WrF_N709mWRJnRqiv2od5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B126.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84GtsJ4fN90/YQ_8v0gF9FI/AAAAAAAAcD0/y8ryNQgdal0WrF_N709mWRJnRqiv2od5gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B126.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob Roy Way</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E1uIsvF_nPU/YQ_8vvtvbkI/AAAAAAAAcDw/B8lCPrLeKrYDkz7cEQBt2fknuQYUSEOVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B123.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E1uIsvF_nPU/YQ_8vvtvbkI/AAAAAAAAcDw/B8lCPrLeKrYDkz7cEQBt2fknuQYUSEOVQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B123.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aberfeldy distillery</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iO647pswAdI/YQ_8vQPLQwI/AAAAAAAAcDs/MTQ07BvqfNwxXAORueSdMQixH2cazrv1QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B118.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iO647pswAdI/YQ_8vQPLQwI/AAAAAAAAcDs/MTQ07BvqfNwxXAORueSdMQixH2cazrv1QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B118.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing hut rain shelter</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sf-iNP1EJKM/YQ_8vHMQqeI/AAAAAAAAcDo/4OXKzjg4BcQuGVx-2-8IzVdG-iTukvUFQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B103.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sf-iNP1EJKM/YQ_8vHMQqeI/AAAAAAAAcDo/4OXKzjg4BcQuGVx-2-8IzVdG-iTukvUFQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B103.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good grief, what on earth is that?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SFypPYePX4/YQ_8uvydybI/AAAAAAAAcDc/ceugkiKfeY8h-KAKrkpyPz0F_KkwKi6JQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B100.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SFypPYePX4/YQ_8uvydybI/AAAAAAAAcDc/ceugkiKfeY8h-KAKrkpyPz0F_KkwKi6JQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B100.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp around the back of Schiehallion</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lBk0E6tZN_s/YQ_8uu1dDZI/AAAAAAAAcDk/hjOaQh6-oeomFAXTHsGsERpGPRMmT7YEgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B094.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lBk0E6tZN_s/YQ_8uu1dDZI/AAAAAAAAcDk/hjOaQh6-oeomFAXTHsGsERpGPRMmT7YEgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B094.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Schiehallion</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vOrAgAwBWnw/YQ_8ujlQESI/AAAAAAAAcDg/Y0ci8bpKI7EgzKeu_xepyig1s3nkgFAAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B091.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vOrAgAwBWnw/YQ_8ujlQESI/AAAAAAAAcDg/Y0ci8bpKI7EgzKeu_xepyig1s3nkgFAAQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B091.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian Cotterill turns up in Kinloch Rannoch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Our plan was to do some shopping at Kinloch Rannoch - which we did - and, as a change to the dehydrated we bought some almost proper food in the form of corned beef, sweetcorn and rice (we couldn't get spuds). So our camp under the slopes of Schiehallion was a bit better fed than normal. In the morning we had a bit of a scrap with a lot of contours but managed to cross the hill to the banks of the River Tay, where it chucked it down but, luckily there was a fisherman's shelter, so..... we dripped along to Aberfeldy for dinner and decided to stay in Aberfeldy for the night at the campsite. This allowed even more drinking , eating and shopping, so the next night's menu was to be stewed beef, baked beans and more rice...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Breakfast at the cinema and a sort of lunch at Ballinluig, which wasn't at all pretentious, being soup served in a bowl on a damaged Welsh roofing slate and a bit of bread balanced on a pebble. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After a chat with Dan at the Halfway House, who remembered us from 2018 (lovely chap, noisy dog) we trundled over to Loch an Oiseanneach Mor (Loch an Oyshenach, according to Dan). This is another quite lovely spot as it happens.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oddly enough, from here on, in this pieblog, the pictures out of Blogger are now appearing in the correct order. The text is in the wrong place, though.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FWi3zsfD5nk/YRLf7cbAQXI/AAAAAAAAcEk/_Ou1ShAaN7QbJP8Sx-pQ_xGnKIKBIQWJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FWi3zsfD5nk/YRLf7cbAQXI/AAAAAAAAcEk/_Ou1ShAaN7QbJP8Sx-pQ_xGnKIKBIQWJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B146.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting warm in the tussocks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6K12syM13dw/YRLf7WAK9sI/AAAAAAAAcEo/NVKMPy2fhWAO0b7ZBKG22iZg1XTYsEtCgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6K12syM13dw/YRLf7WAK9sI/AAAAAAAAcEo/NVKMPy2fhWAO0b7ZBKG22iZg1XTYsEtCgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B150.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve at Kirkmichael</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XE9ckWQdi3A/YRLf7UFPppI/AAAAAAAAcEs/Ie3lGV6kcVIvtFB2-MVKwYWBBYyhR9nHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XE9ckWQdi3A/YRLf7UFPppI/AAAAAAAAcEs/Ie3lGV6kcVIvtFB2-MVKwYWBBYyhR9nHgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B156.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ on a bridge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U5DL43kOUuQ/YRLf7x8ZrzI/AAAAAAAAcEw/mH_aHjr9FEEjkRVAeFOKqZ0duHpQMs3qQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U5DL43kOUuQ/YRLf7x8ZrzI/AAAAAAAAcEw/mH_aHjr9FEEjkRVAeFOKqZ0duHpQMs3qQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B162.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Belties</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ur2e7s7GfWk/YRLf8BBDg4I/AAAAAAAAcE0/HXc9XlnmtCQ4Fyb_ihyo08GdO_MM_wj_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ur2e7s7GfWk/YRLf8BBDg4I/AAAAAAAAcE0/HXc9XlnmtCQ4Fyb_ihyo08GdO_MM_wj_ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B164.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp above Glen Dajackson</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fas_pIiKO7o/YRLf8GEvrkI/AAAAAAAAcE4/79MN5Do0WRQfBCLYvv3YyBpB74FPOoBmwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fas_pIiKO7o/YRLf8GEvrkI/AAAAAAAAcE4/79MN5Do0WRQfBCLYvv3YyBpB74FPOoBmwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B170.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last hill</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bM7eQwXf9hM/YRLf8o91qTI/AAAAAAAAcE8/5CPfkF9tskwx8tWi6-ufZW_W6m1Bu8c1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bM7eQwXf9hM/YRLf8o91qTI/AAAAAAAAcE8/5CPfkF9tskwx8tWi6-ufZW_W6m1Bu8c1wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B171.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dogs aren't allowed on a TGO challenge, but the rules are silent on the subject of rabbits</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ajRRklwZMjw/YRLf9BYR59I/AAAAAAAAcFA/nJa5TVspna0uLC3VwtwggvVfv-WpBbcIACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ajRRklwZMjw/YRLf9BYR59I/AAAAAAAAcFA/nJa5TVspna0uLC3VwtwggvVfv-WpBbcIACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B173.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch of Linthrathen</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jz_TWOnXhrg/YRLf9_9UjII/AAAAAAAAcFE/658BoulubT0ZUEJanLYIl9M5lkmugP8QwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jz_TWOnXhrg/YRLf9_9UjII/AAAAAAAAcFE/658BoulubT0ZUEJanLYIl9M5lkmugP8QwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B175.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Its bloody shut. We'll just wait.....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RsHgC6P246g/YRLf-aK9-vI/AAAAAAAAcFI/plFecl-P7JQZIaHRxheoYP2QkBhdkFX9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RsHgC6P246g/YRLf-aK9-vI/AAAAAAAAcFI/plFecl-P7JQZIaHRxheoYP2QkBhdkFX9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B177.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up The Jungle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;">And so, shotly after leaving Loch an Oisenneach, it all went a bit wrong. The path, which appears on <i>some</i> maps, disappeared and some off-piste Pennine-like countryside appeared. Happily, it was mainly downhill/ But for a while we bashed through Tussock, Heather and Bog (capital letters used to make it sound like a firm of accountants) - until, proper knackered, we reached forest paths which lead us all the way into Kirkmichael where there is a lovely village shop which does hot pies and tea. Here, we met challenger Steve, last seen being followed by a clutch of midgies in Glen Kinglas. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We progressed - passing 2018's camping spot and entering yet more rough stuff to Glen Shee, then up Glen Dajackson or whatever it was called (look, see - we were getting tired and fractious, so we didn't care at this point and on to apparently waterless moors. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Eventually a spring appeared near an ancient settlement site and we could settle anciently into our tabernacles for minced beef, carrots and spuds followed by fruit cocktail and Bell's whisky. A noisy night of snoring and calling after Kylie in the night followed....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And in the morning it was all sweetness and light for half a mile then the struggle with the landscape returned until we hit the roads in Glen Isla.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We had a brief incident in Glen Isla when we noticed that we were being stalked by a small domestic rabbit. At first, there was a frission of fear at being followed by an animal, who's motivation could only be guessed. Did we appear to be a tasty alternative to the usual dandelion diet? Or did our packs look ideal for a stowaway and what damage would this do to our finely balanced and healthy diet of fresh vegetables wot we were carrying? Apparently, it was on a romantic mission to a nearby cottage which also had a rabbit. The farmer and two of his sons appeared on an ATV and, after some chasing about, recaptured the waskally things and returned it to it's pen with an instruction not to let it out again.....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We headed for the Wee Bear Cafe just by Loch of Lintrathen. Miles past. Shoulders ached. Grumpiness and sweat was the order of the day. And when we arrived.......... it was closed till July 1. We could have waited. We waited for a bit, in fact, consuming water and cheese as the pitiless sun beat down on the bit between the bottom of our kits and the top of our socks. Eventually, it was time to go. I had identified a bijoux camping spot not too far away by a river. More eventually we arrived and found...... a jungle. Lots of nettles and deep grass and fallen trees and blackfly and the rumble of herds wilderbeast thundering magnificently over the Plains of Angus. Actually, the last bit isn't true. We had a lovely, quiet night. Nobody in their right mind would camp in there....</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ikr6RSxqFvs/YRLkdWBMmLI/AAAAAAAAcFc/FAUmv-CYD4UPcrPqTCCd8AOcupAQ62vcgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ikr6RSxqFvs/YRLkdWBMmLI/AAAAAAAAcFc/FAUmv-CYD4UPcrPqTCCd8AOcupAQ62vcgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B179.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roads.....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww8sfV95mSo/YRLkdLuFaWI/AAAAAAAAcFY/m8F-uNNL-KM2HbY0PfpGmEr6b-HcWo50QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww8sfV95mSo/YRLkdLuFaWI/AAAAAAAAcFY/m8F-uNNL-KM2HbY0PfpGmEr6b-HcWo50QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B181.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kirrimuir (mainly closed on Mondays)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E8zjJ5oFVnU/YRLkdScui6I/AAAAAAAAcFg/UYmgnr_Y2_05sljOJ41fM_vnpcbuGM1IwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E8zjJ5oFVnU/YRLkdScui6I/AAAAAAAAcFg/UYmgnr_Y2_05sljOJ41fM_vnpcbuGM1IwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B185.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forfar campsite</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDXZ6oiIoH4/YRLkdsv2duI/AAAAAAAAcFk/Kcfs15T4CYYrOIjit1981JJ95xwhn_iuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDXZ6oiIoH4/YRLkdsv2duI/AAAAAAAAcFk/Kcfs15T4CYYrOIjit1981JJ95xwhn_iuQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B187.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading for Kenny's cafe in Forfar</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x8Vw5QwwU3I/YRLkdyCt1kI/AAAAAAAAcFo/5NHiSzxoVRMHAYltZ50DFaJy28lM2ftCgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x8Vw5QwwU3I/YRLkdyCt1kI/AAAAAAAAcFo/5NHiSzxoVRMHAYltZ50DFaJy28lM2ftCgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B189.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely path near Dunnichen</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olyzUXbNXvo/YRLkeN2XtDI/AAAAAAAAcFs/8b40LZyVRyAsdexM5FlS1w-wqMEci-GkwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olyzUXbNXvo/YRLkeN2XtDI/AAAAAAAAcFs/8b40LZyVRyAsdexM5FlS1w-wqMEci-GkwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B191.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Battle memorial</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wyDWNsWp4kw/YRLkeVpVvGI/AAAAAAAAcFw/olKMhLYgj8EqN_iRbrslkPtJ_hhKMm4uQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wyDWNsWp4kw/YRLkeVpVvGI/AAAAAAAAcFw/olKMhLYgj8EqN_iRbrslkPtJ_hhKMm4uQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B195.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More roads</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uIBO4cZhZM0/YRLkeRyVUMI/AAAAAAAAcF0/k2oaLHJsBFEyd1NrC8sbEJhC1a-mweS0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uIBO4cZhZM0/YRLkeRyVUMI/AAAAAAAAcF0/k2oaLHJsBFEyd1NrC8sbEJhC1a-mweS0wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B196.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friokheim</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BaTPE4iWcX0/YRLkeqhbtMI/AAAAAAAAcF4/4Z3-x317PvgpJi_J2csJzFLTjrYG0aRiACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BaTPE4iWcX0/YRLkeqhbtMI/AAAAAAAAcF4/4Z3-x317PvgpJi_J2csJzFLTjrYG0aRiACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B197.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marion's lawn</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AcE0uyGZnUs/YRLke-DDSSI/AAAAAAAAcF8/1K8VVxNfOQIgqF3PzOobdqAGFYsPZUgTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AcE0uyGZnUs/YRLke-DDSSI/AAAAAAAAcF8/1K8VVxNfOQIgqF3PzOobdqAGFYsPZUgTQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B199.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet more roads</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5kNV7Oa7JU/YRLkewn0c-I/AAAAAAAAcGA/ugBbhUeeKjIGFmOaXQYbqchhA2TH-dy2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5kNV7Oa7JU/YRLkewn0c-I/AAAAAAAAcGA/ugBbhUeeKjIGFmOaXQYbqchhA2TH-dy2gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B203.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Must get the wife's mother a birthday card.......</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">And now it was time for a couple of days road walking. We decided to re-route to Kirriemuir, which wasn't too far away and which would have hot tea and pies and other delights. Here, we enjoyed a huuuuge bridie or Cornish Pastie. But as big as your head. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">And then we plodded on to Forfar where we camped on the campsite, joined by Mr and Mrs Skipp. We ate well in a proper eating-place and drank beer and in the morning, we got butties and strawberries from a bakery and had a big breakfast before plodding on once again to Lethem where the Picts once won against the Northumbrians 2 - 0. Lethem also provided yet more scoff.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">And so did Friokheim where we joined the Skipps once again to watch the Englend- Germany match. Watching England play footie in a Scottish pub may seem a risky thing to do, but the natives in Friokheim are gentile and friendly and let us play their guitar (this is not a euphamism by the way)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">TGO Challenger extraordinaire Marion also offered us a section of her lawn to camp on as she lives nearby. So that's what we did - a short bus journey, more snoring, a lovely breakfast and a lift back to Friokheim and we were on our way once again. More road plodding brought us to Lunan Bay and a dip for me (the only time I wore my undies!) and tea and a taxi to Montrose. The End. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">This was my 16th TGO challenge and a very enjoyable one. Maybe, in a week or two I might begin planning a 17th.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks to JJ (he's from Manchester by the way) - for the socialising with the various people we met along the way - when I walk solo, I don't tend to talk to many people and for putting up with the string of very poor jokes, occasional sulks and playing all the right chords, but not necessarily in the right order (Sloop John B was, frankly, murdered in Friokheim.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">If you enjoyed this, send me all your money. I'm in the middle of a campaign to rid the world of malt whisky and funds are needed. Thank you in advance.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MXCZfiIuntE/YRLkfEMJTCI/AAAAAAAAcGE/TG6khuCuoM0iH1IwvMDJIKdMlZu01ym-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/tgo2021%2B212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MXCZfiIuntE/YRLkfEMJTCI/AAAAAAAAcGE/TG6khuCuoM0iH1IwvMDJIKdMlZu01ym-wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/tgo2021%2B212.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end. That's me in the middle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-19193886539597667472021-03-11T15:39:00.000+00:002021-03-11T15:39:06.505+00:00February Fill Dyke<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jjCeXVC8F1o/YEow0hHDWeI/AAAAAAAAb3w/owckHaYmhRMJeZnyHDWjzxUJcEZEcSBkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/snowday%2B008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jjCeXVC8F1o/YEow0hHDWeI/AAAAAAAAb3w/owckHaYmhRMJeZnyHDWjzxUJcEZEcSBkQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/snowday%2B008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">February was quite snowy and mainly sunny and quite beautiful in lots of ways, but I felt that travel restrictions ought to confine me to Crook and, maybe, at a push, Wolsingham. As far as fitness is concerned, things did come together quite a bit - there's another chart below which shows that finally, or maybe , eventually in week 4 I managed more mileage than in the same week last year. Other weeks were..er...weak. It rained in week 3 and the snow melted and the dykes filled.... I put this increase in activity down to Li Yang. Li Yang poo-poos the idea of a walk which is less than 15 miles and would much prefer 20 or 25. We walked quite a bit together up to the summer of 2020 then lockdowns, holidays, fine malt lassitude and, general couldn't be arsed took over. But she popped up again, and some longer walks have started taking place since then. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The chart below shows miles walked each week during February in 2020 and 2021. Week 3 was pathetic but week 4 won the prize. (Doesn't include LTD's routine doggy walks)</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9MtfgJY3Q08/YEozUbAj0BI/AAAAAAAAb4c/3exn7qip0KkGG5JYOaF1a4Ss-2El_JN5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s852/february%2Bmiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="852" height="341" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9MtfgJY3Q08/YEozUbAj0BI/AAAAAAAAb4c/3exn7qip0KkGG5JYOaF1a4Ss-2El_JN5ACLcBGAsYHQ/w523-h341/february%2Bmiles.jpg" width="523" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">In other news, the TGO challenge has been postponed from early May to mid June/end of July. JJ is OK with this, subject to the timing of some medical interventions and, if I'm honest, I prefer June in Scotland, partly becasue it doesn't really ever go dark. I like daylight. What can I say? The timing of this has squished up against my 70 hills plan and, I've been considering this and..... (picture of car crash follows...)</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jNul9kedXKU/YEoxmz_Cr9I/AAAAAAAAb4Q/jayh1A4O0JUYCdwMC3W9q6JmY786VZF1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ayhope%2Bshield%2B018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="630" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jNul9kedXKU/YEoxmz_Cr9I/AAAAAAAAb4Q/jayh1A4O0JUYCdwMC3W9q6JmY786VZF1wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h630/ayhope%2Bshield%2B018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">...I've been considering this at some length and it strikes me (the idea, not the car...) that the Lake District will be absolutely heaving in the summer of 2021 and, not only that, but that many of the heavers will be feckin eejits and many of these will be fly-camping or, as some would incorrectly label it, "wild camping" And they'll be doing their usual thing about abandoning their cheapo tents and general stupid amounts of debris and, frankly, shite, often in the true meaning if the word and, basically, I can't be doing with this. So I've decided to have a go at the 70 hills in 2022, hopefully with a May 2022 TGO challenge as a fitness- enhancer.</span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxH2zkDiApw/YEoxbgkMEvI/AAAAAAAAb4M/LJHK5uo_P08wFj4XvL5SxYiGTCoH7uf8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crow%2Bcoal%2Band%2Bbolts%2Blaw%2B014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxH2zkDiApw/YEoxbgkMEvI/AAAAAAAAb4M/LJHK5uo_P08wFj4XvL5SxYiGTCoH7uf8gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/crow%2Bcoal%2Band%2Bbolts%2Blaw%2B014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S2XVRrJKDX8/YEoxQw92YwI/AAAAAAAAb4E/yJhGhtnfWvQBggzaqEQzR_D5Rgz9lJPdACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/sunniside%2Bsnow%2B011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S2XVRrJKDX8/YEoxQw92YwI/AAAAAAAAb4E/yJhGhtnfWvQBggzaqEQzR_D5Rgz9lJPdACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/sunniside%2Bsnow%2B011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">So, this means that I have more time for jaunts in May and July 2021. I'll be doing some Crook Rambler stuff, but most of this is on Sundays, leaving midweeks free to wander freely , providing pandemic becomes endemic....</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VLFsamTR-4s/YEoxJczLsfI/AAAAAAAAb38/gw2UQrw2vEc2I0QccoSn9v3puyO_qzsBACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ladley%2Bwood%2B008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VLFsamTR-4s/YEoxJczLsfI/AAAAAAAAb38/gw2UQrw2vEc2I0QccoSn9v3puyO_qzsBACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/ladley%2Bwood%2B008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The picture of the burned-out vehicle by the way was taken on Doctors Gate road. It was one of three. Apparently, the fashion at the moment is to drive at a stupid pace over the bumpier bits of the moor - quarry spoil heaps, in fact, until the car becomes disabled or otherwise irrecoverable.... and then set fire to it. Given the comments above about the prospects for Cumbria in the summer of 2021, it's hard not to conclude that the British are a nation of moronic arseholes. I do know that this is mainly not true, although, it has to be admitted, that the arsehole population is quite high and, in 2021, they probably won't be going to Spain for their holibobs. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But now, spring is springing. The sun has finally appeared through the Pietowers bathroom window, the snowdrops are running to seed and some of the daffies are flowering. The Pietowers population of sparrows (there's about 40 of them in the hedge) are attacking each other, there's a cheeky robin and a couple of little wrens and I've just bought fifty quid's worth of dehydrated food just in case I might want to nick off and camp somewhere a bit discreetly. Its probably best if this isn't mentioned to anybody just yet and I wouldn't go anywhere too far away or anywhere dangerous..... <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AnLLK_rQmEI/YEow-6VRpWI/AAAAAAAAb30/NTy9uchwYj03a4Rk9M6bvHLwRsheqTrrwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/knitsley%2Bin%2Bthe%2Bsnow%2B009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AnLLK_rQmEI/YEow-6VRpWI/AAAAAAAAb30/NTy9uchwYj03a4Rk9M6bvHLwRsheqTrrwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/knitsley%2Bin%2Bthe%2Bsnow%2B009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-44991388396151765202021-02-01T21:43:00.002+00:002021-02-01T21:43:55.078+00:00January - Sick and Tired You've Been Hanging on Me<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yuoeQMM-Ycc/YBhqh7d5IuI/AAAAAAAAb2U/jFrxJ4_szTQ98hWTK9ox7jL_vzR5SZVvACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/north%2Bmoor%2B018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yuoeQMM-Ycc/YBhqh7d5IuI/AAAAAAAAb2U/jFrxJ4_szTQ98hWTK9ox7jL_vzR5SZVvACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/north%2Bmoor%2B018.JPG" width="640" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">January, mainly was a "propah" winter as far as globally-warmed winters go. Plenty of snow and plenty of ice. This was Just Rubbing It In. Perfect hard neve formed towards the end of the month as a result of some freeze/that cycles and a large amount of snow over on the Weardale Fells, all of which shone bright white from a distance in any sunshine that happened to be going. And that was the problem with January. The temptation to sneak up to the far-distant parts of Weardale and go and play on the deep and hard snow was...er..... tempting. But I didn't. Instead, me and LTD were confined to the immediate vicinity of Crook, with the odd adventure from Wolsingham. This was doing my training for a BIG walk in July no good at all.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTe6-xn5cg4/YBhtbpOutQI/AAAAAAAAb2w/iMu1kszwoIIlljR5cyR8kFJBsd2_h_qJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s852/january%2B2020%2Band%2B2021%2Bmiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="852" height="476" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTe6-xn5cg4/YBhtbpOutQI/AAAAAAAAb2w/iMu1kszwoIIlljR5cyR8kFJBsd2_h_qJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h476/january%2B2020%2Band%2B2021%2Bmiles.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The chart above (which, I believe is the first chart ever to appear in this Pieblog) shows this year's mileage as compared with last year's mileage by week. As you can see, whilst there was a good start, fueled by enthusiasm and some remaining Christmas cake and booze, things didn't really get going. This was partly due to some really poor weather and partly due to the shackles of Covid 19 rules and partly due to an inability to get up early enough to do a long walk. I did manage a couple of ten-milers and even a fifteen mile walk, but 2020 had a 20-miler....... The Christmas cake and fine malt whiskies are now used up. The bottom lines are that in January 2021 I walked 116 miles as opposed to 159 in January 2020 and I need to do more, not less.</span></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tjd9aJDSSaI/YBhqiCZfNHI/AAAAAAAAb2c/idL7KUU4yw4CD0Xb2euBeQgIbePISJaHwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/north%2Bmoor%2B007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tjd9aJDSSaI/YBhqiCZfNHI/AAAAAAAAb2c/idL7KUU4yw4CD0Xb2euBeQgIbePISJaHwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/north%2Bmoor%2B007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The task ahead is further complicated by what appears to be a further complication. The idea was to do a walk covering 70 mountains in my 70th year in July, starting on the 10th of July (10X7=70). Part of the training regime would be the 2021 TGO challenge which is planned for May 2021. But now, the organisers have announced that maybe, only maybe, though, that the TGO challenge could be moved to June or July. My priority would be to do the TGO challenge whenever it happens and, I believe, JJ has the same view. So, I'd have to do the 70 tops later on - probably September when the schools are back and the warmth and daylight are still with us.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9moBUKHlrw/YBhqZNtHDuI/AAAAAAAAb2M/1uZi6nD5z3sX8b9fKpRZ9KFT6psYun3EgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/five%2Bpikes%2B005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9moBUKHlrw/YBhqZNtHDuI/AAAAAAAAb2M/1uZi6nD5z3sX8b9fKpRZ9KFT6psYun3EgCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/five%2Bpikes%2B005.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I have the list of hills and a provisional route (the second attempt at a route) Thus, the attempt would begin at Haweswater and end at Langdale after performing a kind of figure-8. I would probably camp, mainly wild camping but with the odd campsite and fish and chip shop. I would aim to take LTD with me, which also provides another logistical challenge.......</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NadCZDjW7Uk/YBhqZKPQ55I/AAAAAAAAb2Q/7hQcEwkb2EATJrc5xQaDu1-0AihNkAvPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/five%2Bpikes%2B002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NadCZDjW7Uk/YBhqZKPQ55I/AAAAAAAAb2Q/7hQcEwkb2EATJrc5xQaDu1-0AihNkAvPgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/five%2Bpikes%2B002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">This challenge involves Lucky's supply of kibble. The problem is that kibble can only be bought in quantities which are too big to reasonably carry. LTD can carry about 3 days supply and I could carry a similar extra amount, but at some point, re-supply would be needed. I might have to suggest to Mrs K that trips to Keswick and Eskdale in September (Or July) would be Just The Thing.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NQ4-jurtKCA/YBhqh5xcKyI/AAAAAAAAb2Y/tAhG6SUGs4wC8OSoSl42fcTdqY24mEyqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/north%2Bmoor%2B006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NQ4-jurtKCA/YBhqh5xcKyI/AAAAAAAAb2Y/tAhG6SUGs4wC8OSoSl42fcTdqY24mEyqgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/north%2Bmoor%2B006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Its all still in the planning stage - I might add a day or two as rest days. In the meantime, I think I need to do a really long walk or two....</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Finally - the charity bit - last time I did this sort of thing, I managed to raise a fair amount of spondoolies by using those "reviews" that bloggers used to get to do, in which they got given free kit and had to write about how nice and sploshingly good value for money whatever it was a company wanted reviewed. The companies were really very open to the suggestion that they send two bits of whatever kit it was and let me sell one and keep the other.... but nobody asks for reviews any more.... So I'm occasionally having a "trying-to-think-something-up" session and not being very successful about it, yo be honest. Some people raise charity cash by just asking for it, but I'm not really keen on that. I like people to get something in exchange.... other than a brief feeling of smug saintlyhood... Not that there's anything wrong with a brief feeling of saintlyhood...</span></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-85610476693028400612021-01-11T11:37:00.001+00:002021-01-11T11:37:22.064+00:00What Should I Do With My 70th Year?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q23UpWv1YT4/X_wyH7gzLNI/AAAAAAAAb0M/kPfRoqQ2dI8jQvG7ry7jRuIFrUs6brzogCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q23UpWv1YT4/X_wyH7gzLNI/AAAAAAAAb0M/kPfRoqQ2dI8jQvG7ry7jRuIFrUs6brzogCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">One thing is for sure that I'll never have another 70th year. I might well be at the summit here and, as it's probably all downhill from now on, I was thinking that I should mark the year with something special, somehow. And maybe do something charitable such as re-establish my fundraising for Mind wot I did a few years ago and which was mildly successful, though I say it myself. The idea that I came up with, one boozy Christmas night whilst being locked-down, was to climb 70 2000 foot hills in one continuous expedition. Withe a tent. And a small black and white dog. The most convenient place to do this would be the English Lake District. This is because it's quite handy for knipetowers and the hills are generally (that is to say, most of the time) grouped together in closely-packed, friendly groups. And in-between there are outdoor shops where dehydrated food and equipment can be bought should the need arise. These outdoor shops are also in small towns which are fully equipped with hostelries, pie shops and off-licences. I though this was a smashing plan.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apgeCILsqUY/X_wyIEb8ebI/AAAAAAAAb0U/YzLjhLY8OEgualG5qH4JTLff9Xx73oqNgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apgeCILsqUY/X_wyIEb8ebI/AAAAAAAAb0U/YzLjhLY8OEgualG5qH4JTLff9Xx73oqNgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B022.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--V2unplMAJo/X_wyIU0eZ3I/AAAAAAAAb0Y/eB8u8ltLOZ0ruGbQMJ4KIaom9XFEdCf5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--V2unplMAJo/X_wyIU0eZ3I/AAAAAAAAb0Y/eB8u8ltLOZ0ruGbQMJ4KIaom9XFEdCf5ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B023.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And then I had a desultory look at an on-line map of Cumbria with all the Hewitts and Nutalls marked on it and added up some of the distances and ascent. And I thought....."bugger" This looks quite a hard thing to do for a 69-year-old, fat, type 2 (the best type) diabetic with a dicky ticker and a lazy dog. And, not only that, but the entire country is currently in lockdown and we're not supposed to travel very far for exercise, so access to hills with closely-packed, not to say over-friendly contours is not only verboten but also anti-social, unpopular and a bit dangerous. So training for this could be difficult. Training needs to be up big, steep hills with lots of uphill and over several consecutive days and this sort of thing isn't available just now.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxL8XuPIIv8/X_wySiZtf5I/AAAAAAAAb0c/cqhvE8sogb0DWdCVQ3sJto8Q7P6wKz9OACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxL8XuPIIv8/X_wySiZtf5I/AAAAAAAAb0c/cqhvE8sogb0DWdCVQ3sJto8Q7P6wKz9OACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lUP8VpvDVTI/X_wyS71057I/AAAAAAAAb0k/74Y0xJtsyvoLXLSy8wXHMiHZvedfFvz-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lUP8VpvDVTI/X_wyS71057I/AAAAAAAAb0k/74Y0xJtsyvoLXLSy8wXHMiHZvedfFvz-wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">But we travel in hope. In May 2021 me and JJ are booked in to do the TGO challenge and, whilst we don't have a specially hard route, 14 days of walking with big packs should be really helpful. This is planned for May, so the big hope is that it will actually go ahead. It will be a close-run thing I suspect. All digits are crossed. In the meantime, I'll just have to walk as much as possible. Maybe I'll be able to sneak up Weardale soon for some walking in deep snow.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fhq-THzJ-p8/X_wySvL2LaI/AAAAAAAAb0g/vnPqGxAOoQYDw2pFeVFSEtvzgPtxAigKwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fhq-THzJ-p8/X_wySvL2LaI/AAAAAAAAb0g/vnPqGxAOoQYDw2pFeVFSEtvzgPtxAigKwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5lyEky5yYs/X_wyTjPbIqI/AAAAAAAAb0o/_tq6ZQOTI1M0UHIrXduekUwXF082EpPvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5lyEky5yYs/X_wyTjPbIqI/AAAAAAAAb0o/_tq6ZQOTI1M0UHIrXduekUwXF082EpPvgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/stanley%2Bmoss%2Bsnow%2B012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">As far as the charity fundraising is concerned, I'll try to use the same strategy as last time - the philosophy being that whatever I do will avoid the "sponsor me on a jolly" type of thing in favour of a presumption that contributers will actually receive something in return. I'll need to think about this. Last time there was some level of sponsorship for my involvement in the North East Skinny Dip. If people paid enough, I would keep my pants on. Just like everything else, the event might take place, and, if it does, all other things being equal, I will take part.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ninUI7Qrvvs/X_wyH1bCgsI/AAAAAAAAb0Q/eAYn6mRscFUduTrfs8RMoctEuRVv2eGLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ninUI7Qrvvs/X_wyH1bCgsI/AAAAAAAAb0Q/eAYn6mRscFUduTrfs8RMoctEuRVv2eGLQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/hedleyhope%2Bsnow%2B018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-size: large;">All the pictures in this post are from very recent local doggy walks. None of these are enough to get fit enough for climbing all those hills. I need to walk further at least and, hopefully, I'll get enough mojo to work on this starting now.. or at least, soon.</span><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-43423362149748056892020-11-15T22:07:00.001+00:002020-11-15T22:07:23.509+00:00Lucky The Dog Escapes From The Fireworks Damply<p></p><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-syRMEJ3L0HY/X7Gck4zLODI/AAAAAAAAbx4/GKQJWdZOB_IGIx4NxcrgeC6gGOCylQHVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B010.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-syRMEJ3L0HY/X7Gck4zLODI/AAAAAAAAbx4/GKQJWdZOB_IGIx4NxcrgeC6gGOCylQHVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B010.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">England went into a sort of semi-ignored lockdown just before Gunpowder Plot (we nearly forgot) - and so, we had to do our anti-firework camp a couple of days early, which was a shame because the weather on our re-arranged date was, frankly, 'orrible. On the A66, it blew a hoolie and chucked it down with the wipers going on <i>Very Fast. </i>But at Dufton, the air was still and the sun was shining. This was Good. We set off up the Pennine Way aiming for High Cup Nick. The intention was to camp at Maize Beck where there's a beautiful little limestone gorge into which we could insert ourselves for a couple of nights out of the way and sheltered from any further windy blasts.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6MgdwsWJvA/X7GcV9uV77I/AAAAAAAAbxI/18LDwILMEQ8isHN-CZ7zjmvEiix5Vn0SwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6MgdwsWJvA/X7GcV9uV77I/AAAAAAAAbxI/18LDwILMEQ8isHN-CZ7zjmvEiix5Vn0SwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh no..<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6RJL9RBd0c/X7GcV8QQdEI/AAAAAAAAbxM/GW_dZpehESsHz3PGeP_GZjm66u5QTiVlwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B004.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6RJL9RBd0c/X7GcV8QQdEI/AAAAAAAAbxM/GW_dZpehESsHz3PGeP_GZjm66u5QTiVlwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Akto very near Maize Beck. Hillfog rolling in again<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0crqj6kZHfE/X7GcVzlkJsI/AAAAAAAAbxQ/6O0VnhgB6D0TQ6dtls4XjjPeSCAP_cSSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B005.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0crqj6kZHfE/X7GcVzlkJsI/AAAAAAAAbxQ/6O0VnhgB6D0TQ6dtls4XjjPeSCAP_cSSwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gorge at Maize Beck<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wL923ssXeuE/X7GcWrp2lAI/AAAAAAAAbxU/5s2Bg-fn0qEOdNqn4S1lu_9g4o-9GZc7wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B008.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="429" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wL923ssXeuE/X7GcWrp2lAI/AAAAAAAAbxU/5s2Bg-fn0qEOdNqn4S1lu_9g4o-9GZc7wCLcBGAsYHQ/w622-h429/firework%2Bcamp%2B008.JPG" width="622" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">We weren't more than a mile and a bit out of Dufton when it started raining. Bits of sunshine promised that this was Just A Shower. But it wasn't. The sky darkened and the mist rolled up the hill. And the rain battered down. Iy had rained quite a bit in the days before, so some little becks which normally, a little fat beardy bloke with an old black and white mongrel could just stride across with one mighty stride, became a gamble. Like a spillage of alphabeti spaghetti, a slip could spell disaster and a wet tumble over the whin sill crag into oblivion (the word "oblivion" should ideally be delivered quite a lot like Riff Raff in the Rocky Horror Show. Practice it now..."Oblivion"</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DMaaCIfcJk/X7GcW-JhkbI/AAAAAAAAbxc/6eqGlsIQZ80lG8K28f6vJuvjuzQEu_VCQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B011.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DMaaCIfcJk/X7GcW-JhkbI/AAAAAAAAbxc/6eqGlsIQZ80lG8K28f6vJuvjuzQEu_VCQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">When we arrived at Maize Beck it was in spate and it was still raining with a Big R, so instead of camping on one of the little beckside platforms I opted for a little dip next to a cave a few metres awat. The cave had a short section of beck emerging , running along for ten metres or so and then disappearing down a hole, presumably to emerge in the wall of the gorge a bit lower down. The akto went up smartish, the wet dog installed, water collected, brew on, shot of rum, tea and darkness. It rained heavily all night and a new spring appeared just behind the tent. LTD moved not at all, other than to shuffle into a new position. The long night wore on cosily but with some drippy condensation. And in the morning it was raining. We were all clagged in. Doggy walks were short and taken reluctantly. Snoozing was the best thing. Brewing was the next best thing. And eating. And reading. And the radio. All with the constant nearby roar of the becks, the machine gun fire from Warcop, and the occasional boom of artillery. LTD doesn't seem top mind machine guns and artillery..... and he snoozed on.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2w_Ay9a57U/X7GcXEm5DJI/AAAAAAAAbxg/NKVQgsjyCO4lj7cTs2ZCSmw7RER8vOhJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B012.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2w_Ay9a57U/X7GcXEm5DJI/AAAAAAAAbxg/NKVQgsjyCO4lj7cTs2ZCSmw7RER8vOhJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Another night past. The drizzle stopped and the moon and stars appeared, the rushing clouds making them seem that they were on their way somewhere quite quickly. 5:00 a.m and brewing up followed by a moonlit doggy walk, followed by a return to cosy bags and a grey and creeping dawn for another snoozette - Interrupted at some vague, semi-concous point by the sound of shouting , grouse calling and shotguns. Then machine gun fire again. I peered out. Half a mile away I could see a bloke with a flag tramping through the heather. There was a grouse-shoot in progress. In the cold and sunny morning and to the warlike sounds and booming Maize Beck, we left. The odd thing about this stuff is that when you're leaving the hill and everybody else is just setting off, it feels as if I'm doing the wrong thing. Lockdown would start at midnight. There would be no more of this kind of stuff for a while.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b5uEGEknZm8/X7GcXe57Q_I/AAAAAAAAbxk/JXTeh9Pymq0im1WU5MpdGAe-Xp6rGKxgACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B013.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b5uEGEknZm8/X7GcXe57Q_I/AAAAAAAAbxk/JXTeh9Pymq0im1WU5MpdGAe-Xp6rGKxgACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kv5Abp5XbWc/X7GcXvI4D0I/AAAAAAAAbxo/3P-0HCAIzvEjs8Mbp6Ujx3cVuHR8_aj4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B014.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kv5Abp5XbWc/X7GcXvI4D0I/AAAAAAAAbxo/3P-0HCAIzvEjs8Mbp6Ujx3cVuHR8_aj4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/firework%2Bcamp%2B014.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F1jI_QMp_4o/X7GcX6Foy9I/AAAAAAAAbxs/64PhUZ2BedMCWuBK1Tx-cFK_320RsUz-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B015.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F1jI_QMp_4o/X7GcX6Foy9I/AAAAAAAAbxs/64PhUZ2BedMCWuBK1Tx-cFK_320RsUz-ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9fDMXy5iBs/X7GcYJMOwzI/AAAAAAAAbxw/C3W8OP9Ef7YfkkRTQQlYCZCA9DumcQF0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9fDMXy5iBs/X7GcYJMOwzI/AAAAAAAAbxw/C3W8OP9Ef7YfkkRTQQlYCZCA9DumcQF0QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B019.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OWcl0wDJ58Q/X7GcYZYLFAI/AAAAAAAAbx0/u-G1fOD74wUI9slqlNxZIHiOGQDpGsi_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/firework%2Bcamp%2B020.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OWcl0wDJ58Q/X7GcYZYLFAI/AAAAAAAAbx0/u-G1fOD74wUI9slqlNxZIHiOGQDpGsi_ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/firework%2Bcamp%2B020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-size: large;">Incidentally - I just couldn't get control over the justification of the first paragraph of text and one picture had been selected by blogger to be ignored when it came to resizing it. So the text is all at one side and, as far as I can tell, is determined to stay there and I've deleted the picture. </span><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-20420284364651536622020-10-13T15:39:00.000+01:002020-10-13T15:39:12.405+01:00The Wettest Town in Wales, Rain, Lax Navigation, Rain Covid 19 And Yet More Rain<p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-93qEqA0qvNk/X4WqHfILWHI/AAAAAAAAbvI/4J3qP3KueMI7ZUZ8m-ZWcs6EGKPUWIvVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-93qEqA0qvNk/X4WqHfILWHI/AAAAAAAAbvI/4J3qP3KueMI7ZUZ8m-ZWcs6EGKPUWIvVQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B050.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Last October me and Mrs Pieman had a holiday in the Preselli Hill and very nice it was too. The October before we were also in mid Wales in October and it rained and rained and rained. And it went dark. So, this year we booked to go to Wales a bit earlier and we booked in January - a bit before Covid 19 began. We booked for the end of September. In the intervening months, Covid 19 died back a bit. But then, at the end of August it started coming back. In September, bits of South Wales , Lancashire, West Yorkshire and North East England saw increasing cases and some "restrictions" were put in place. Advice, though, said we could go on holiday. So we went.</span><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXy3IwxY3bE/X4WpueRKoaI/AAAAAAAAbuo/Bz4DNdOrH_AQXfZy0E59ZY0kSpIq5t55gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXy3IwxY3bE/X4WpueRKoaI/AAAAAAAAbuo/Bz4DNdOrH_AQXfZy0E59ZY0kSpIq5t55gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B065.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfh0aPAnlg0/X4WpubIqz5I/AAAAAAAAbuk/jwPgvqjY10YvU8Cvw9nCTYyLPjJ67ysqACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfh0aPAnlg0/X4WpubIqz5I/AAAAAAAAbuk/jwPgvqjY10YvU8Cvw9nCTYyLPjJ67ysqACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B060.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">One of the things on the Things To Do list was to bag just three Nutalls that had previously escaped my attentions. This would bring my Nutall-bagging total to just one short of all the Nutalls In The World, the final one being Pillar Rock, which could well prove a bit of an issue at my age and with my knees. Or even without my knees, but certainly with my lack of desire to fall off anything very rocky. One of these Nutalls was was Ysyfell Wen Far North Top. I had been within a shoelace of it on 17 October 2008 when I was on the very nearby Ysgafell Wen North Top - just a bit North of Ysgafell Wen, in fact. But I'd missed it and gone off towards Cnicht or something. And so with rain looming on the weather forecast and the Welsh Government forming plans to ethnically cleans North Wales of all nymphs and faeries, I set off in bright sunshine from a cottage in Tanygrisiau to bag the very top of the Far North Top of Ysgafell Wen. LTD was in high spirits, and so was I.</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w8BavnLLnc/X4WptqWYTjI/AAAAAAAAbuc/sSG6UjPLh6I82NnqUz-2RV7qe5cuKMyoQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w8BavnLLnc/X4WptqWYTjI/AAAAAAAAbuc/sSG6UjPLh6I82NnqUz-2RV7qe5cuKMyoQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B054.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bn4L9Xn54so/X4WptFb_PsI/AAAAAAAAbuU/SAPpSDV01UoD2-Zz0IDpfSnaXMI9QQSrQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bn4L9Xn54so/X4WptFb_PsI/AAAAAAAAbuU/SAPpSDV01UoD2-Zz0IDpfSnaXMI9QQSrQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B048.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Our way lie via CwmOrthin with it's slate mines, Allt Fawr and Moel Druman, where we stopped for a long while to chap to a chap taking photographs, but who's knowledge of the area seemed limited to Moel Druman and a few local tops, Nice chap, though and we were joined by three lasses from Caernarfon who pronounced the hill names and Tanygrisiau properly and we all stomped off individually to the summit of Ysgafell Wen, a lovely top with spiky bits. And then, I went to Ysgafell Wen North Top, which was the very next top.... except, it wasn't. Then I went to Ysgafell Wen Far North Top, except I didn't, I went to the North Top, which I thought was... er.... look, I'm not Bear Ghrylls. Sometimes I get things wrong. I congratulated myself anyway and LTD celebrated with two gravy bones that I'd saved for him specially for the occasion.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-koPbe0W5Q4s/X4Wps7Su3RI/AAAAAAAAbuQ/MkPy6SJva3wSRVDUzpO_AXFw9pO5_lXHACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-koPbe0W5Q4s/X4Wps7Su3RI/AAAAAAAAbuQ/MkPy6SJva3wSRVDUzpO_AXFw9pO5_lXHACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B041.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jkh9cI07A3A/X4Wpssv1hpI/AAAAAAAAbuM/ECYFgA2xGJAptehYQrnuJWvN71PutbFQwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jkh9cI07A3A/X4Wpssv1hpI/AAAAAAAAbuM/ECYFgA2xGJAptehYQrnuJWvN71PutbFQwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B040.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And so, we wandered off smugly into a rather nice wild bit, bagged the diminutive but craggy and with a big drop down the far side (not the Far North Side) Craig Llyn-llagi, just by the lovely tarn Llyn yr Adar, and made our way back to Tanygrisiau for plonk and scoff and a ticking frenzy on the wife's laptop. (This is not a euphemism by the way) And then, as the ticking progressed, the penny dropped. I hadn't bagged Ysgafell Wen Far North Top at all. There's an extra top up there. I'd counted three and there were four. Bugger. I would go back.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zp-Spvzg0F0/X4WpsvYCFxI/AAAAAAAAbuI/gPlF4MWj6LE6Xn6PaYpExLSyw3BIkfJnACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zp-Spvzg0F0/X4WpsvYCFxI/AAAAAAAAbuI/gPlF4MWj6LE6Xn6PaYpExLSyw3BIkfJnACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B035.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMVsPsluprI/X4WpsbrNCGI/AAAAAAAAbuE/WxiaqRgINvI96fe-Mm0xTiR6KOQb8ay4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMVsPsluprI/X4WpsbrNCGI/AAAAAAAAbuE/WxiaqRgINvI96fe-Mm0xTiR6KOQb8ay4ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B031.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">In the meantime, the Welsh Government closed the border with Conwy on pain of £100 for going anywhere near and it rained as predicted. Two days later and with Another Plan, me and LTD went to Dolwyddelan in order to sneak up on Ysgafell Wen Far North Top from round the back, thus not repeating the previous route and also bagging three other tops on a little round. This went well for a while. I had lazed in bed a bit late, though and just past Coed Mawr farm, we encountered suckler cows with calves. LTD has a nasty habit of barking at cows, and sucklers notoriously don't like dogs and can get quite aggressive. so we used up some time to sneak around various rocky tors and tussocks out of sight of the cattle and continued on soggy paths to Bwlch Rheidad - a bwlch being the same sort of thing as a bealach in Scotland, a Hawse or Hause in Cumbria and a Pass up the Khyber (not a euphemism either by the way). Things got rougher along the very soggy ridge to Cerrig Cochion and the stupidly steep heather and rock of Meirch ( another very nice hill) and then, on towards Ysgafell Wen Far North Top. </span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILTmldskzZ8/X4Wpr9t9fNI/AAAAAAAAbuA/ndQV99GSaGkwTRqo9mwXCSBBPxgW3qCbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILTmldskzZ8/X4Wpr9t9fNI/AAAAAAAAbuA/ndQV99GSaGkwTRqo9mwXCSBBPxgW3qCbwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B029.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fykXcXuTeeA/X4Wprv1axKI/AAAAAAAAbt8/VbSUHpFSqiUcZ3K_SXnTnWKKNtMaN2YVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fykXcXuTeeA/X4Wprv1axKI/AAAAAAAAbt8/VbSUHpFSqiUcZ3K_SXnTnWKKNtMaN2YVQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B027.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Except, my GPS said it would take me 40 minutes to get there at this speed, and forty minutes to get back and a few hours to get back to my car. It would be dark. The spirits of the mountains would emerge and rob me of my roasted cashew nuts (no euphemism here). I would be doomed to wander the tussocks for ever, looking in vain for my little dog , who would have run off as soon as he had discovered that he'd eaten all of the gravy bone supply. I had to abandon the surge towards Ysgafell Wen Far North Top. Bugger again. Instead, we wandered over Yr Arddu and down through the woods to Roman Bridge where the romans had built a bridge to take the train line over a small beck on it's way to Blaenau Ffestiniog, the wettest town in Wales in 121 AD. Flushed by this success, they thought about having a wall between Northumberland and Roxburgh and the Scots would pay for it.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwTmlI12LjY/X4WprlM6S1I/AAAAAAAAbt4/NuJL0-JBBbYCo3By7A4U-TA-dNDgB5_nwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwTmlI12LjY/X4WprlM6S1I/AAAAAAAAbt4/NuJL0-JBBbYCo3By7A4U-TA-dNDgB5_nwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B022.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4iOedPJbZA8/X4Wpra9STwI/AAAAAAAAbt0/6KssvLyI2hUBe714C1OwfdghL1bDkMcLACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4iOedPJbZA8/X4Wpra9STwI/AAAAAAAAbt0/6KssvLyI2hUBe714C1OwfdghL1bDkMcLACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The it rained just the once. And during these five or six days we did a bit of tourist stuff. LTD had a run on the beach and various small Tumps around Blaenau were bagged damply. And during this time, Plan C was formed. This involved driving to Blaen Nanmor (for some reason, the OS have missed the "T" out of this place name - maybe it should be Blaen Nantmor??) where, on a narrow single-track road there was a car park giving access to a short path of just a couple and a half of the Queen's Kilometres, the very summit of Ysgafell Wen Far North Top could be acquired for the List of Hills Wot I Bagged. Except I got a mile or two up this road and came across a sign. It said "Road Closed" I turned the knipemobile around with some difficulty and proceeded grumpily back towards the main road. Maybe it was a sign (Course it was a sign - it was a big yellow metal sign in Welsh and English) But a stop in a layby showed that I could park at the foot of the Watkin Path that goes up Snowdon and go from there, adding just a couple of kilometres to the route. If there was space, and it was getting late, so Snowdoneers might have packed the place, a Plan D would be Just The Thing.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZulDesXTcbM/X4Wpq8WCEcI/AAAAAAAAbtw/5qZe5ZyMA3AYdeZDZ61HMC0UJvXondObQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZulDesXTcbM/X4Wpq8WCEcI/AAAAAAAAbtw/5qZe5ZyMA3AYdeZDZ61HMC0UJvXondObQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vse5rRl9d-w/X4WpqdM-ISI/AAAAAAAAbts/Qjq4MMDLy2wE1FfqGrONMlBp4RHhPza2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vse5rRl9d-w/X4WpqdM-ISI/AAAAAAAAbts/Qjq4MMDLy2wE1FfqGrONMlBp4RHhPza2ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And it worked, although I did find myself on the top of Ysgafell Wen North Top again, congratulated myself again, gave lTD another gravy bone in celebration and then realised that Ysgafell Wen Far North Top was, in fact ....over there-------------> So I went over there and climbed to the top. LTD had another gravy bone and I resolved not to tell anybody about how hard this hill had been to climb. So we went home via an off-licence in Penrhyndeudraeth. disturbing a buzzard "tidying-up" a dead sheep for the second time. I did detect a certain element of surliness about his demeanor. Incidentally, at 4:00 pm, on returning to the car park at the foot of the Watkin Path up Snowdon (remember that one?) two well- wrapped up but otherwise very badly equipped walkers were seen to be setting off to climb Snowdon. At about five o'clock, it started raining again, the cloud had already been swathing the high tops. I wonder if they got away with it, and decided, instead to go to the pub. Or are they still up there?</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kn2p-a4tyBE/X4WpqQEc1YI/AAAAAAAAbto/tHqkymJZwOIVEgD2PPPUvm9tvs8fpsRZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kn2p-a4tyBE/X4WpqQEc1YI/AAAAAAAAbto/tHqkymJZwOIVEgD2PPPUvm9tvs8fpsRZQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">In the meantime, and in-between various bouts of wet and windy weather, the WElsh Government had been railing at having written to Boris Johnson about keeping saxons off their land, and being ignored by said Boris and were thinking about closing the border and declaring war on East Anglia, but having no actual tanks, decided that it would have been too dry for them anyway. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, finally we decided on an easier bagging task - a group of five lovely and bijoux tops not too far from the forbidden land that was Conwy. These were just off the road and consisted of various lovely, rocky tops including Craig y Garreg-lwyd and it's North Tope (doesn't seem to have a Far North Top, although it does have a bit of a "stopper" crag on the way which requires a short diversion - the excellent Y Garnedd and the steep and craggy pudding Garreg-y Fol-Gron, and, finally , just across the road, and defended by very soggy moorland and a little crag, Cerrig y Leirch. So, just two Welsh Nutalls to go. I might never make it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Incidentally, the pics in this post aren't in the order that they're supposed to be and bear no relation at all to the text, apart from the fatc that they were all taken on this trip. Blogger just won't let me move them - if I try, they just disappear... poof! Gone! Nobody knows where......<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rpL4kez10D4/X4WpqUVFCEI/AAAAAAAAbtk/7KhUQ-gCwtc-17ol56oU2lcBnLMOM3TYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/blaenau%2B005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rpL4kez10D4/X4WpqUVFCEI/AAAAAAAAbtk/7KhUQ-gCwtc-17ol56oU2lcBnLMOM3TYQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/blaenau%2B005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-22048796557321946282020-08-25T22:49:00.001+01:002020-08-25T22:56:13.546+01:00The List Of Things To Do Shortens a Bit (Backpacking in Lanarkshire)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-1jdvbfzsY/X0V391oEXwI/AAAAAAAAbqk/36Vy3KuKkAoiVK9wXp_5APInMpkNMIq3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-1jdvbfzsY/X0V391oEXwI/AAAAAAAAbqk/36Vy3KuKkAoiVK9wXp_5APInMpkNMIq3ACLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B004.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">This was on my List of Things To Do for whenever I was able to do them (things). This trip was originally scheduled to start on or around 22nd March. We all know what happened that week, though, innit? I almost set off a day or so early, but in the end, some vague remnants of commonsense that remained from whenever it was I last used some commonsense prevailed and I didn't go. And so, it appeared on The List.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oyPvWqpT8pw/X0V39mFdXSI/AAAAAAAAbqc/-vhofgqbeg0g5tGj7y8y2_JUfYG-iim-QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oyPvWqpT8pw/X0V39mFdXSI/AAAAAAAAbqc/-vhofgqbeg0g5tGj7y8y2_JUfYG-iim-QCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B005.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The idea was to bag 3 Marilyns: Common Hill, Nutberry Hill and Middlefield Law, initially in the company of LTD, JJ and Beryl (aka Margaret) This plan failed to even reach the racecourse, never mind get into the starting line-up. According to the map , some intervening hills also could be bagged and all this would put me on 595 Marilyns, just 5 Marilyns short of the Marilyn Hall of Fame (you'll have to Google this, I just can't be arsed explaining it all.)</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z6R4ik1z82U/X0V392zKKuI/AAAAAAAAbqg/ixrtjtdOKGYXUJ9JFiio2qz6HMcXJclhgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z6R4ik1z82U/X0V392zKKuI/AAAAAAAAbqg/ixrtjtdOKGYXUJ9JFiio2qz6HMcXJclhgCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B006.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And so, on a recent Tuesday lunchtime I parked quite near a pie shop in the Lanarkshire village of Douglas and wandered up through wind turbines on easy wind turbine roads beneath wind turbine signs which warned against going up there in freezing conditions or thunderstorms and bagged Nutberry Hill fairly easily, just about the time a huge black cloud appeared and started to rumble a bit. This put the willies up me big time because I don't enjoy being lit up by electricals and for some reason they always bring to mind some really poor jokes about God which I try not to think about. Luckily for Lucky, who hates thunder even more than me, I'd left him at home. I had some suspicions that the walk might be getting beyond his doggy walking powers. There was also the crossing of two grouse moors and he does have an unfortunate habit of trying to eat grouse. Grouse moor peeps who could well have been it and about in this season might well have taken a dim view of this. They can be a bit surly sometimes.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnIISBz9g2Y/X0V3-vsEnQI/AAAAAAAAbqo/7OK3k1Kv8_0jwWH7NjH3CvCE0k2e6zPuACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnIISBz9g2Y/X0V3-vsEnQI/AAAAAAAAbqo/7OK3k1Kv8_0jwWH7NjH3CvCE0k2e6zPuACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/south%2Blanarkshire%2B007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">So, after the bagging, and in view of the rain, I cast about for a camping spot. I did notice a security camera on a long pole which overlooked some nice spots, and also the previous rumblings from heaven made me consider not being too close to a turbine. Eventually I found a place by a little beck out of sight of the camera and settled in to listen to the rain and eat some dehydrated chicken fried rice and some cheese and rum and stuff like that whilst listening to an old MP3 player last used on a TGO Challenge five years ago (I found it in a drawer.... it was a fab evening - comfy and cosy and swishy when the MP3 player was eventually turned off.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vysrxD2ygrU/X0V3-s5h42I/AAAAAAAAbqs/-oGiiNU--90qUQ_eGHLQQrMVNy-4_mFfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vysrxD2ygrU/X0V3-s5h42I/AAAAAAAAbqs/-oGiiNU--90qUQ_eGHLQQrMVNy-4_mFfgCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B008.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">And in the morning, after porridge, prunes and coffee I attacked the tussocks of Meikle Auchinstilloch (it means "Big Auchinstilloch") and whilst many a Meickle maks a Muckle, this one was quite tough and not a Muckle at all. (Google is your friend) Rough and soggy is a good description and, I found, that this applied to all of the hills to be bagged. So, I continued, sloppily over Little Auchinstilloch and |Priesthill Height and abandoned my pack in a corner of the fence and blundered off to bag Marylin #2 , the very heathery Nutberry Hill. I did find a vague ATV track to the top which made it easier. The view from the summit of Nutberry contains more wind turbines than any reasonable person would want to shake a stick at. It seems possible that with the lively local westerlies, that the Northern part of Britain is destined to drift off and bump into Denmark at some point soon. There must be a tug in that direction, surely.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jHE1ddvoDsw/X0V3-_0mMDI/AAAAAAAAbqw/dTRo0vZ6HMY52V6Y2074ssU3Qbg5vr_GQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jHE1ddvoDsw/X0V3-_0mMDI/AAAAAAAAbqw/dTRo0vZ6HMY52V6Y2074ssU3Qbg5vr_GQCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B009.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Onwards - after finding my pack was exactly where I left it and that my 70% proof chocolate was safe - on by that fence to a brew and by the Leaze Burn using burn water which already looked like builders' tea and tasted vaguely of blood (I guess it must have had a high iron content) - and then over the sloppy Spirebush Hill on to the even sloppier Goodbush Hill where I decided I'd had enough.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JI3Z97LdMjQ/X0V3_ZnRI4I/AAAAAAAAbq0/Css0cm0qKWMmpiAM2rgs6n9QZfKtr8a1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="601" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JI3Z97LdMjQ/X0V3_ZnRI4I/AAAAAAAAbq0/Css0cm0qKWMmpiAM2rgs6n9QZfKtr8a1wCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h601/south%2Blanarkshire%2B010.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The weather forecast had said that there would be high winds and rain and Goodbush Hill is no place to put up a Laser Competition in this sort of stuff and, in any case, bogwater isn't nice for rehydrateing a beef stroganoff. I had noticed a space in the forest to the North which might produce a camping spot, although forests aren't often brilliant at flat and green places. And there was Death Grain -a small stream which went through a gap in the trees to a forest road which ought to deliver me to my intended spot in short order - once I'd plodded miserably over the miles of soggy stuff of Goodbush as energy levels seeped out through the now soaked socks and out through my wetted-out boots. AS it happened, Death Grain had a flat bit. The trees were far enough back not to get blown onto my tent and the little beck was more than handy and so, as the rain started, the Laser comp went up and I went in. This particular spot had a large selection of various species of spider and some of the night's entertainment consisted of watching one build a very small web in the top of the tent porch. In the morning there was the shell of a fly in the web and the spider had gone. And my cooking pot and lid, which had been left out, now contained a full litre of lovely fresh rain - much better than the light brown peaty stuff in Death Grain itself. So that went in my water bag for the next day's hydration.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-je-ZQrMn-wY/X0V3_il-eoI/AAAAAAAAbq4/MlTHLKCscLAVVTq-ySe4shaRxJ0pfPT8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-je-ZQrMn-wY/X0V3_il-eoI/AAAAAAAAbq4/MlTHLKCscLAVVTq-ySe4shaRxJ0pfPT8QCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/south%2Blanarkshire%2B011.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I was just 100 metres from the forest road. This 100 metres was a maze of steep drops, waterfalls, thick forest and wet grass. Eventually I made it and followed the tracks past my intended spot for last night, which would have been quite nice as it happens, to the main road where a chap was pushing broken glass out of the indow of his JCB. Apparently a front window had blown back and broken it. We had a chat. It was the first chat I'd had since...er.... Anyway, there was piles of rubbish which I expect he'd been sent to sort out - left, apparently, by a family from Wishaw who'd "wild" camped there for a few days and left, it seems, without taking their tent, the plastic chairs, the food and drinks wrappers, the tennis rackets.... Its not known whether they'd remembered to retrieve all of their children..... I pressed on down the road, crossing the sinsiter-sounding Blood Moss and on up to bag Bibblon Hill - the boggiest and soggiest yet. And the bit between there and Middlefield Law was energy-sapping and thoroughly draining AND my pack back adjusters fell out , making the whole thing a bit of a trial to say the least. I had to stop for a brew as the wind started to rise again. The summit of Middlefield Law, Marilyn #3 welcomed me in a touselled wind-staggered state and despite the top being the most interesting so far, and with the best view, it was no place to sit and eat a soreen lunch bar or indeed a lump of Wensleydale, so I left, downhill on a good path which took me to a road, which took me to Muirkirk, which was closed and had been closed since 1963 when the gritter failed to turn up. Somebody's been trying to tart it up, but, honestly, when Scotland does decrepit, it does it really well. So I didn't stay.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfOH3cQ_z1I/X0V3_0F2VEI/AAAAAAAAbq8/eJEFHvSg7oYAe5nYt3IqlLtshtC7pOEfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfOH3cQ_z1I/X0V3_0F2VEI/AAAAAAAAbq8/eJEFHvSg7oYAe5nYt3IqlLtshtC7pOEfgCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B013.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Instead, I joined the River Ayrshire Way, which here follows a dismantled railway line. This provides easy walking, which is exactly what I wanted, being pushed along by a lively and very wet gale. An unnamed little beck in what we might call a gill in the more Danish parts of England, or a clough, or a cleuch. Anyway it was a lovely spot, in sight of the A70, nicely sheltered and, as it turned out, full of healthy-looking slugs who all wanted entrance to the Laser Comp. I spent most waking hours flicking them off the tent, removing them from boots, my cup, the inner tent and my elbow. I swear that the one on my elbow was going for the throat. Very...slowly....</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPghWGKegZU/X0V4APOWVrI/AAAAAAAAbrA/dd1bVvcrdUoMFH6uYtjdStYgWuhHqeVkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPghWGKegZU/X0V4APOWVrI/AAAAAAAAbrA/dd1bVvcrdUoMFH6uYtjdStYgWuhHqeVkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/south%2Blanarkshire%2B014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N99JrVUO01I/X0V4AfLLqXI/AAAAAAAAbrE/tXuuTo2d-EceZZnEfec6V5ngPZiPKhj2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N99JrVUO01I/X0V4AfLLqXI/AAAAAAAAbrE/tXuuTo2d-EceZZnEfec6V5ngPZiPKhj2gCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/south%2Blanarkshire%2B015.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sB3meo7t788/X0V4AvJqOqI/AAAAAAAAbrI/Qpa1TJR8o6UewWKlF5syzQmEgkqxWsHZACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="601" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sB3meo7t788/X0V4AvJqOqI/AAAAAAAAbrI/Qpa1TJR8o6UewWKlF5syzQmEgkqxWsHZACLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h601/south%2Blanarkshire%2B016.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">It rained all night and it was still raining as I left for more of the railway line, ending up at Glenbuch Loch. I abandoned the idea of climbing Hareshaw Hill in favour of a more dangerous, but sheltered scutter along the A70. Roadworks meant that the traffic came in lumps, so , most of the time, quiet progress was made and, sometimes, I could walk along the railway line although it was overgrown and the grass was wet. At Monksfoot Bridge, I took to the hills and followed a track to Low Broomerside, which was inhabited by just a goat - and then, back to the familiar tussocks and bog. But the sun was now shining and a brew in the sun was almost idyllic. I recrossed the railway and descended through some rather nice woodland, with litter (to prove that the public was allowed to go there) - to a road which took me back to Douglas and the pie shop who sold me a very large sausage roll, some coffee and a huge lump of wholemeal bread. There's more stuff on the list before I start to get more sociable again.....</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3m-ERqecti4/X0V4BLunGFI/AAAAAAAAbrM/kqWNaDSdqKAdmwlSVdSmlQAMLAo6B9TkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/south%2Blanarkshire%2B017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3m-ERqecti4/X0V4BLunGFI/AAAAAAAAbrM/kqWNaDSdqKAdmwlSVdSmlQAMLAo6B9TkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/south%2Blanarkshire%2B017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> <p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177918675979573010.post-77895953184677062292020-08-13T22:25:00.000+01:002020-08-13T22:25:57.117+01:00Rambling Rambles With Crook and Weardale Ramblers<p> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq1275B33ug/XzWoTqQVhYI/AAAAAAAAbog/FY6rDgQKRzgn-Y7bjd-sF5lyp4znNdDIQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq1275B33ug/XzWoTqQVhYI/AAAAAAAAbog/FY6rDgQKRzgn-Y7bjd-sF5lyp4znNdDIQCLcBGAsYHQ/w800-h600/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B010.JPG" width="800" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">According to the Ramblers, from 30 July 2020 Ramblers Groups (Crook and Weardale Ramblers is a Ramblers Group) can ramble in groups of up to 30 people, which was an increase from 6. Up until then, if more than 5 people, plus a leader wanted a walk, we had to split the group into smaller...er.....groups. But now, the gloves, or at least, the thermal socks, are off.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt4m2-bEpuw/XzWqtqMIYbI/AAAAAAAAbo4/WhwURSRV6R4da0wI2XGIMUmh4p7zsfvhgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt4m2-bEpuw/XzWqtqMIYbI/AAAAAAAAbo4/WhwURSRV6R4da0wI2XGIMUmh4p7zsfvhgCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B001.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And so, since then we've had potentially bigger groups, although, in practise, we've actually had twelve humans and, occasionally , a small dog (LTD). These are pics from the last 2 walks - nine or so miles from Nenthead to Ash Gill where, on the occasion of Trevor's birthday, a rendition of "happy birthday" was provided behind the Ash Gill Force waterfall. The noise of this drowned out most of the choir, thus either preventing any less skilled vocalists becoming jealous, or stopped anybody noticing any variations from yer actual correct tunings.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HoleRe8blF8/XzWqtlanNWI/AAAAAAAAbpA/PqGBmz3N6qkClIoXHrM_XALKR3Ld3GAMACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HoleRe8blF8/XzWqtlanNWI/AAAAAAAAbpA/PqGBmz3N6qkClIoXHrM_XALKR3Ld3GAMACLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B008.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8QEbVp4H3N8/XzWquQzOT9I/AAAAAAAAbpE/6YjAv-nNYP04hWAew48mGOOoqAI6MwgvwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8QEbVp4H3N8/XzWquQzOT9I/AAAAAAAAbpE/6YjAv-nNYP04hWAew48mGOOoqAI6MwgvwCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/ash%2Bgill%2Bcrw%2B009.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And then, there was a ramble up Buckden Pike. This walk had, in fact already been the subject of a reccy and a bit of a blizzard which, generally put people off a bit. But then, as the Covid 19 rules were relaxed, it appeared once again in the August programme.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhW2nKmYoNA/XzWsUaQ2CdI/AAAAAAAAbpg/2zK937t_2fYv0APNgKrECU6zt5CVJPJmwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhW2nKmYoNA/XzWsUaQ2CdI/AAAAAAAAbpg/2zK937t_2fYv0APNgKrECU6zt5CVJPJmwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L8m2s8-NMmU/XzWsUaXzqnI/AAAAAAAAbpc/RxBAeI79P1432wZr46Q3u-YcFdgy5-DUQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L8m2s8-NMmU/XzWsUaXzqnI/AAAAAAAAbpc/RxBAeI79P1432wZr46Q3u-YcFdgy5-DUQCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B006.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Once again, the weather made an impact on the walk, this time being stupidly hot, with a dangerously electrical element in the forecast. So, as we simmered by the summit cairn with our lunchtime butties, somewhere over to the North-West and darkened sky rumbled. LTD began a sneaky escape (he likes thunderstorms even less than me), but was captured and held, tail between his legs and refusing gravy bones. It was that serious.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68zqy24K_Ts/XzWsURPIg9I/AAAAAAAAbpY/E5a4rn3-_6URG7ZuL6NU2E8kT6FRFnOcwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68zqy24K_Ts/XzWsURPIg9I/AAAAAAAAbpY/E5a4rn3-_6URG7ZuL6NU2E8kT6FRFnOcwCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B007.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">I shortened the walk a bit by using an escape route to the Fox and Hounds at Starbotton where they sold us some refreshments. And a storm failed to develop, although a certain amount of rumbling and grumbling from Langstrothdale continued. So nobody was electrified. It stayed hot, though.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rYN401SZRGA/XzWsVKMFMuI/AAAAAAAAbpk/RczhG1XTyOISnjDrBOhiatvKqg-ke0jKgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rYN401SZRGA/XzWsVKMFMuI/AAAAAAAAbpk/RczhG1XTyOISnjDrBOhiatvKqg-ke0jKgCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B009.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">We're javing more walkies through August and, we're just working on a September programme (it seems daft to plan too far ahead just now) Details of all walks are either on the website or will appear shortly <a href="www.crookramblers.org.uk" target="_blank">Here (click the link!!)</a></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-69zj25c5yf0/XzWsVvXuM3I/AAAAAAAAbpo/spGbOyn9jgYbSCQ7BPll43U8o64dnITVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-69zj25c5yf0/XzWsVvXuM3I/AAAAAAAAbpo/spGbOyn9jgYbSCQ7BPll43U8o64dnITVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w1000-h750/crw%2Bbuckden%2Bpike%2B010.JPG" width="1000" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><p></p>Mike Knipehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12792636586674245725noreply@blogger.com1