Me and superdawg met the brother in Crosby Ravensworth city centre for a wander on bridleways over Crosby Ravensworth Fell towards Orton. Due to not really paying the appropriate amount of attention to the navigation, in favour of chatting about something or other probably quite important, we ended up having an unplanned visit to the cairn and trig point on Coalpit Hill which overlooks the very beautiful M6 motorway.
After a bit of locational adjustment, involving some deep heather and a Larsen trap with a crow in it (I hate these things…) we managed to get back on track and traversed the fairly vague scarpline on to Howenook Pike/Bousfield Howe.
I was sort of hoping that the weather forecast would be correct today and that we’d get some sunshine. It was a bit better than over in Crook, which was misty and a bit drizzly, but cool and cloudy and dull would best describe the Cumbrian weather. It was grand ensconced in deep heather with the cheese butty, but not exactly comfortable sitting in the wind.
A path through lambing pastures brought us to Orton with its whitewashed church and it’s pub. Unfortunately, we only managed the one pint as the landlord and landlady drove off, presumably on a shopping mission before we could get the second.
And so, only half full of beer, we slouched off back up another bridleway to recross the limestone karst back to Rosby Cravenhearth, or whatever its called.
We called at the memorial on Beacon Hill ( a memorial to the lighting of a beacon, apparently); met a lass with six dogs on leads saying “leave” in a threatening sort of manner, and back to Raven Athroscopy on exceedingly uninteresting bridleways wot bored the arse off the dog that he had to eat sticks. I have to say, that on a dull day, these bridleways do go on a bit. They’re grand for a bit of a hurtle, but they’re not specially exciting. There’s larks and pipits and sheep, and trapped crows for the keepers to kill (keepers have to like killing lots of things, cos that’s their job. Never turn your back on a keeper.) But they’re not really thrilling. They need a good blizzard, to be honest. Or you can watch the traffic on the M6 and hope for a crash.
Went home very very quickly. The A66 is such fun on an evening.
Shopping tomorrow for stuff for a three day trip to the Lakes (nothing to do with Mr Sloman’s expedition) – and this means that there will be a short blogging hiatus after this post. Weather forecast is good.
After a bit of locational adjustment, involving some deep heather and a Larsen trap with a crow in it (I hate these things…) we managed to get back on track and traversed the fairly vague scarpline on to Howenook Pike/Bousfield Howe.
I was sort of hoping that the weather forecast would be correct today and that we’d get some sunshine. It was a bit better than over in Crook, which was misty and a bit drizzly, but cool and cloudy and dull would best describe the Cumbrian weather. It was grand ensconced in deep heather with the cheese butty, but not exactly comfortable sitting in the wind.
A path through lambing pastures brought us to Orton with its whitewashed church and it’s pub. Unfortunately, we only managed the one pint as the landlord and landlady drove off, presumably on a shopping mission before we could get the second.
And so, only half full of beer, we slouched off back up another bridleway to recross the limestone karst back to Rosby Cravenhearth, or whatever its called.
We called at the memorial on Beacon Hill ( a memorial to the lighting of a beacon, apparently); met a lass with six dogs on leads saying “leave” in a threatening sort of manner, and back to Raven Athroscopy on exceedingly uninteresting bridleways wot bored the arse off the dog that he had to eat sticks. I have to say, that on a dull day, these bridleways do go on a bit. They’re grand for a bit of a hurtle, but they’re not specially exciting. There’s larks and pipits and sheep, and trapped crows for the keepers to kill (keepers have to like killing lots of things, cos that’s their job. Never turn your back on a keeper.) But they’re not really thrilling. They need a good blizzard, to be honest. Or you can watch the traffic on the M6 and hope for a crash.
Went home very very quickly. The A66 is such fun on an evening.
Shopping tomorrow for stuff for a three day trip to the Lakes (nothing to do with Mr Sloman’s expedition) – and this means that there will be a short blogging hiatus after this post. Weather forecast is good.
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2 comments:
More walks. I need to retire. Have a good trip in the fab Lakes
It wuz fab martin - no, really fab, ashley.
Sorry about the delay in replying/acknowledging the comment, only I been up hills, see?
You really must retire, though, its true. Don't worry about the money, they're printing loads of it down in London.
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