Boredom Brought The Mojo Back

 I hadn't realised how much I'd neglected to blog until Quinn (a reader from the USA) made a comment asking if I was OK. I am OK, in fact I'm blooming. But Things have taken a turn - it's this Covid-19 bug and the consequent semi-lock down that we're starting to enjoy in the UK. So, having been limited by Uncle Boris and His Scientists (fab name for a group by the way) to local walks, for local people, and only once a day, I', determined to write about it because, apart from anything else, it's historical and, there's always a chance that I might not actually survive. I must say, that having worked in the NHS for a long time in a previous life and, early in that career, coming across quite a lot of death, the prospect of shaking off the mortal coil doesn't really bother me all that much. The really disturbing thing is whatever people find on your browsing history and whatever it is hidden under the bed.  But before I embark on anything more useful, I'll do a little catch-up.

Me and LTD have been fairly busy. Up to today, we've walked 378 miles in 47 walks.

Some of this has been Crook and Weardale Ramblers (I'm the Secretary y'know) and I've lead walks for Wolsingham Wayfarers and had a walk for Eric Borley's Wednesday and Saturday Walking Group cancelled due to atrocious weather. The winter of 2020 has been noted for atrocious weather, two named Atlantic storms and it's been raining since October. Has this put us off, though?

 

 

Has it buggery! We've done Long Walks - one during storm Ciara off which there are no pictures because a wet camera is a sad camera. All streams were much bigger than they should have been and it was fairly windy. Diane worked out the route and was determined, despite the best efforts of the Met Office and the Forestry Commission who closed part of the route, to do a 20 mile walk and, in this scheme she was particularly successful. We expected to get wet and we got wet.

A second 20-miles went over Simonside in wet and windy weather - over some outrageously rough stuff to Elsdon , passing Winter's Gibbet, a stupidly spooky spot where the very bones of the murderer and robber Mr Winter fell out of the cage he was in post-execution and mouldered gently in the grass below starting in  approximately 1797. He shouldn't have done it is all I can say.

An April long walk on Easter Sunday seems to be in some danger of postponement. (never say the "cancel" word)



In February, Dawn hired a cottage in North Wales and four of us and LTD enjoyed most of a week where it only rained right at the end. We bagged local hills and took turns at cooking (I managed to put on 1.5 kg) and we also drove onto the beach at Black Rock Sands and me and Dawn had a dip in Cardigan Bay. It was the coldest water I'd ever experienced, but the upside of this is the remarkable effect this has on your mood. A later dip at Druridge Bay, just avoiding being wiped out by a huge wave had the same effect on me. I must say that dipping in cold water, whilst it seems counter-intuitive, is quite good fun, once you get out...

And then Covid-19 crept up. We had a pretty good walks programme at Crook Ramblers and we'd embarked on all kinds of footpath work and early plans for a recruitment campaign - involving our Membership Secretary appearing on local radio - when it all stopped. Our walk along Mallerstang Edge couldn't be a Ramblers walk, but four of us had a "private" walk, and then the shut-down. I am confined to local doggy walks. I can do one per day. I am doing one per day. But there is more to this than meets the eye....