Wet Wet Wet

 

I'm so old now that I remember when Wet Wet Wet were just a bit damp.

It seems that it's been raining since September. Occasionally, just now and then, the rain has turned to snow. But mainly, it's been raining. Then, after a wet spell, there's been an Atlantic storm, followed by showers. Often, drizzle has been driven in sheets across the fells and moors. Drizzle goes through everything.  Precipitation is the name of the game.

I'm not complaining, though. Actually, I am complaining. I'm fed up. My boots are permanently wet. The dog has started wearing armbands. When I get the lead, he brings me the umbrella. In general,though, he doesn't shiver and whinge when he's wet. Ringo is, in fact very tough. He doesn't seem to care at all about cold and wet. He laughs in the face of a wet gale. He wags his tail at miserable glaur. He's an idiot.

I must admit, that on several occasions, I have taken to wearing the wellies. These are perfect for slopping through the slutch (Lancashire onomatopoaeic  dialect word for sloppy mud; consider the noise made by a welly being extracted from slippery mud). Also, puddles and streams up to a couple of feet deep can be sploshed through with impunity. On the downside, anything over about 8 miles starts to get uncomfortable and the grip on steep grass leaves a lot to be desired and you can't take them off without also removing your socks.

Most walks nowadays have ended with wet undies (from the rain, stoppit!), despite the armory of Paramo and nikwax and my rucksack starts to push my trousers down, including the baselayer, after a few miles of driving drizzle, meaning I have to walk with one hand holding up the pants and one hand stopping the dog from inserting himself into rabbit holes, hunting hares, heading around the back of flocks of sheep or greeting strangers enthusiastically. Maybe I should just buy some new kit.

I'm supposed to be training myself up for the TGO challenge and Crook and Weardale Ramblers (I'm the secretary y'know) never/hardly ever cancel a walk and defy the worst and heaviest rain in the hope that it might brighten up. And we're training up for a crack at the Three Peaks of Yorkshire in June, so we have to do longer walks despite the storm. 

And there's a bloke up the road building an ark. Apparently he's had some kind of angelic visitation informing him that we're in for a wet summer.