What happened was this:
We (me and Ringo) parked prettily in Kirkby Stephen which is a good place to park for a couple of days because the car park is free and there's never any issue with leaving the knipemobile there for a while. And we marched off manfully and dogfully in a generally Eastwards direction along the Alf Wainwright Coast to Coast Path. It seems that everybody in Kirkby Stephen is friendly and wants to chat - especially the dog walker we met who enquired what I was doing and seems to have left a donation. Bless 'im. And his dog and Ringo got on very well too and would probably have played all day give the chance
I should also just mention that Ringo is named after Alf Wainwright's favourite drummer
Whitsundale has a superbly remote feeling to it. Apart from the slightly intermittent Coast to Coast route, there are no paths and it feels a long way to anywhere. We dropped off the soggy CtoC path, crossed a fence and soon found a flat spot next to the beck. The curlews called, the sun was warm on the tent, Ringo began his marathon snoozing session on his woofbag and all was well with the world - even the white noise from the little radio reminded me of the Highlands of Scotland where bringing a radio is a complete waste of time. We had our tea. We had a nip of 40% (Ringo is not old enough for 40% by the way, so I left him to his running about barking dream) We snoozed. We (just me , really) watched the glow of the moon on the hill and the strange shapes and movements of what I assumed was the edge of a bank of fog, rising and dissolving. The the moon rose over the hill, apparently quite suddenly.
In the morning there was a slight frost on the grass and, with not too far to walk today, we had a lazy and relaxed sort of start, heading down the Dale on the Coast to Coast Path and, just before Ravenseat Farm, turning West back towards Kirkby Stephen. I had intended to climb over High Pike to a camping spot in a sheepfold I knew, but the lack of conditioning kicked in and some way up Uldale Gill I began to search for a discreet camping spot, which I found just above a waterfall and in a little corner mainly out of sight of the main road - I had noticed that my stumbling and blaspheming progress up Uldale Gill was being monitored by a keeper in a long wheelbase landrover so I was keen to be out of sight.
At half past five, just about teatime, it started to rain quite heavily. We tucked ourselves in for a wet and breezy night.
In the grey dawn of the next morning, the tent had shrunk significantly and as I shook off the drowse it was obvious that we had been covered by several inches of fresh, wet snow which I pushed of from inside, without getting out of my cosy bag. And it was till snowing, much to Ringo';s delight. This put paid to my plan to climb up to Mallerstang Edge - so I packed up and returned to the road, getting back to the car on bits of the Coast to Coast route.