I decided to see if I could find Martin Banfield today. Martin aka Phreerunner (from the Postcard from Timperley blog) is walking from Windermere to as near to Manchester as he can get in the time allotted and, today, was supposed to be at Ribblehead at 10:30 am.
So, despite the Richmond lollipop girls, the Richmond rush hour, the Leyburn tractorfest and the Hawes “Lets all park in the one way system whilst we go shopping” club, I arrived early to find Martin stomping past Gearstones in a feeble attempt to avoid company. It wasn’t to be, though – so me and superdawg joined him and together we all trotted off up the Dales Way in walking conditions that were close to perfect – not too hot, quite sunny, good, clear views, no contact with British telecom who apparently tried to phone me a couple of times but failed, and also tried to have their bits of equipment and software delivered, but couldn’t because they didn’t put enough stamps on the envelope (dhuhhh!!) And they want me to pay the difference…. Hah!…. sorry – ranting again…
Anyway, we did notice that there were no butterwort around but quite a lot of tormentil and that Cam Houses doesn’t have a tea room. Martin seems to be enjoying his walk, though, and, for those following his progress, it doesn’t seem too much of an effort for him at all…
We lunched at Beckermonds and Bruno demonstrated his tin cleaning skills on Martin’s tin of smoked tuna (He had managed to eat the tuna before Bruno got involved). And here, we parted. Martin went off to the fleshpots of Hubberholme and I climbed up onto the ridge to the South and followed the wall to Cosh Knott. Loads of wild flowers up here – and a cracking view of Penyghent. I think Bruno was feeling a bit knackered here, so we stopped for a while and had a second lunch. I let the dog watch me scoff the last cheese butty. It seemed to perk him up a bit.
And so, we continued – down to the Pennine Way, which we followed past Birkwith Farm and Calf Holes Pot and up to the junction with the Dales Way and back to the car.
16 miles and 2400 feet of uphill for me. And a pint of brown stuff at the Victoria Inn somewhere near Hawes….
So, despite the Richmond lollipop girls, the Richmond rush hour, the Leyburn tractorfest and the Hawes “Lets all park in the one way system whilst we go shopping” club, I arrived early to find Martin stomping past Gearstones in a feeble attempt to avoid company. It wasn’t to be, though – so me and superdawg joined him and together we all trotted off up the Dales Way in walking conditions that were close to perfect – not too hot, quite sunny, good, clear views, no contact with British telecom who apparently tried to phone me a couple of times but failed, and also tried to have their bits of equipment and software delivered, but couldn’t because they didn’t put enough stamps on the envelope (dhuhhh!!) And they want me to pay the difference…. Hah!…. sorry – ranting again…
Anyway, we did notice that there were no butterwort around but quite a lot of tormentil and that Cam Houses doesn’t have a tea room. Martin seems to be enjoying his walk, though, and, for those following his progress, it doesn’t seem too much of an effort for him at all…
We lunched at Beckermonds and Bruno demonstrated his tin cleaning skills on Martin’s tin of smoked tuna (He had managed to eat the tuna before Bruno got involved). And here, we parted. Martin went off to the fleshpots of Hubberholme and I climbed up onto the ridge to the South and followed the wall to Cosh Knott. Loads of wild flowers up here – and a cracking view of Penyghent. I think Bruno was feeling a bit knackered here, so we stopped for a while and had a second lunch. I let the dog watch me scoff the last cheese butty. It seemed to perk him up a bit.
And so, we continued – down to the Pennine Way, which we followed past Birkwith Farm and Calf Holes Pot and up to the junction with the Dales Way and back to the car.
16 miles and 2400 feet of uphill for me. And a pint of brown stuff at the Victoria Inn somewhere near Hawes….
