Digging Out Gibson’s Cave

Unnervingly or alarmingly attentive readers may remember that back when it was chucking it down big time, I failed to walk the path from the Bowlees pickernick place car park to Gibson’s cave/Summerhill Force due to a sloppy landslip that had smothered the path to a depth of a few feet.

Any road up, I recently got the opportunity to go and help dig it out and yesterday, along with a van full of big blokes called Ron and two lasses called Adele  the huge mudslide was attacked, along with the trees it had brought down with it and a brand-new spanky (if a bit muddy) path was cut through the chaos.

Actually, it was a bit overstaffed at the diggings, so me and one of the Adele’s went and cleared the mud and winter compost off the paving outside the toilets, washed it, cleared the gutters, washed some signs, knocked another signboard into position and picked some litter. A local chap walking his dogs went off for lunch and returned with a stepladder (not his real ladder, but his step-ladder) and a bucket for the clearing of the gutters.

So, it was quite a successful “do”.

Apologies for getting everybody’s name wrong by the way, but I have a really bad memory for names caused by three years on a Casualty reception being bombarded by names, all of which were processed but not remembered. Either that or I just have a bad..er… 

Anyway, the Ranger-type in charge and van driver was Jennie, not Adele as previously mentioned.

So, if you’re visiting Upper Teesdale and happen to call in at Bowlees for a wee, and/or a cuppa at the currently being seriously done-up visitor centre and cafe and you decide to have a little walk up to Gibson’s cave – and you should, cos it’s very nice, think of the blood, sweat and cheese sandwiches of the Rons and Ronettes and hum to yourself “Met him on a Monday and my heart stood still Adele-Ron-Ron-Ron-Adele-Ron-Ron and Mike.”