Boots Boots Boots Boots Marchinup and Downagain

Those few of you who have read and will remember the Goodies Christmas Album from nineteen seventy blob, will recognise the title of this post as the name of a firm of solicitors….

Anyway – suddenly I have loads of pairs of boots.

Some time ago, I was asked if I would like to review stuff for Ukhillwalking (note well that I’m not reviewing stuff for the blog) and, never a one to refuse hillwalking gear, I said I would.

A bit later, I was told that TNF wanted to send me some boots.  Fair do’s – all my boots are now leaking, except, perhaps my venerable Scarpa’s which I only wear in the depths of icy winter when its require to wear spikes – cos they is stiff, see?

Anyway, the boots never arrived and, eventually , I mentioned this to Sarah at Ukhillwalking. A flurry of emails flitterred around the ether. Boots must have been despatched because…..

Suddenly, a few days ago, a white van appeared at the knipetowers  main drawbridge and the chap announced the arrival of a pair of boots from Belgium. Good-oh. They look very nice. I’ll be trying them out shortly and they’ll likely go on next year’s TGO Challenge (If I get on) – or otherwise on various backpacking trips.

Then , even suddenlier, another white van appears across the moat and the man with the van proudly  announces the  arrival of a pair of boots from Belgium. I accepted, of course.

Justaminnit, though – hasn’t this already happened?  I now have  two pairs of identical TNF boots – the first were despatched in November and the second, in September. Where’ve they been, I wonder. I’m just waiting to see if they want a pair back.

I’ll be doing a report for Ukhillwalking.com as soon as I’ve given them a bit of a bashing testing.

 

Fight Club Hikers at Kirkstone Pass

Friday afternoon, I took the knipemobile and it’s new tyres over the Pennines to Kirkstone Pass for the occasion of the peacefulhikers – that is to say the Fight Club Hikers third anniversary “do”. I should also add that it is very very close to my 60th birthday…

The Pass was a bit on the dreary side when I arrived, to find Wibble Himself reading the Daily Mirror and drinking San Miguel in a dark corner of the bar. Over time, TDude, Gill (Walkingirl) Mott, Peter Crawford, Nurse Jane and Masey and their dogs arrived from various points in South Englandshire, such as Manchester and Anglesey – and Terrybnd from somewhere up the hill round the back. We drank beer.

At one point some birthday pies with candles were produced  for my birthday. I was not disappointed at all at the lack of a stripper nominally dressed as a WPC. BUt these are hard times and sacrifices need to be made.

In the morning, after a night of snoring, farting and the half-hearted attentions of the pub poltergheist, we set off (eventually) up Caudale Head and over to Hartsop.


This went well and the weather was specially kind in a sunny and sparkly kind of way.  There were lots of contours, specially down to Hartsop over Hartsop Dodd, which is a bit like walking off the end of the world.

At the outlet to Brotherswater, the group split. Those with appointments with foaming beer glasses headed for the permissive path back to the pub (and very nice it was too) and other, more determined Hikers went for the high level or haute route. At some point, this party also split between those with reasonable characters and the focussed hill-baggers and duped companions (frankly) who went for very high tops with the certainty of darkness and head-torch time. Head torches were used.

Afterwards, we gathered once again in The Bar and drank yet more beer and ate things wth chips and lots and lots of pepper in some cases.
In the morning, which was probably Sunday by now, we had a desperate hunt for Masey’s car keys, dramatically and emotionally and, even suddenly and after protracted searches of personal cavities and unbder beds and stuff – by Gillian  who eventually searched somewhere sensible but unlikely and came up with the key keys which were key to Masey getting home without spending £400 on a special lift thingy.

Me and Terrybnd went to bag the subsidiary top of Wansfell in bright and glorious sunshine and, after falling damply on my arse several times (more than three), I decided that these trainers were useless and took Terrybnd to Ingleton where he was determined to camp up Ingleborough whilst I enjoyed a breakfast in Bernie’s cafe. And very nice and cracking good value it was too.
And that was it, really. Cracking weekend. I was sustained spiritually, emotionally and nutritionarily by the pies, specially the meat and potato one. Nom nom nom, as we say in Pieland.

Teesdale Rangering

Two bits of rangering to report on.

First was the Saturday Afternoon Special at Barnard Castle. We had Cathy Angel and Walter Taylor as stewards and five walkers.

The weather was less than promising, but didn’t do much more than a very light drizzle, although it did go quite dark for a while. Nobody died and we didn’t get lost or chased by cattle.

I seem to be attracted to taking pictures of signs lately – and found this example of a tin War Department sign announcing the existence of a firing range deep in Deepdale woods. The ash tree it was nailed to has folded the metal and grown around most of the sign. Its taken it about seventy years, I guess. If I come back in another seventy years, it’ll be a miracle. I suspect that the sign might not be here either, although it looks as though the tree has a chance to outlive both of us.

And today, after shodding the knipemobile with two new Firestones, me and Bruno went off to reccy a seven mile walk along the King’s Walk and paths around Hudeshope. (pronounced Hudzup)  This is where I discovered that the walk is only six miles. Maybe nobody will notice.(pronounced shortfall)

The King’s Walk is a long-established permissive path courtesy of the Raby Estate and is very pleasant if a bit slartyclarty at the moment.

The woods would be quite impressive if the sun shines as they’re in autumn colours at last. As it happened, today was dark and Pennine and I finished the walk in the early stages of nightfall.

Some of us quite like dark and Pennine, though.

 

No real problems with the paths apart from their sloppy state, which will probably not change next week unless there’s a big frost or something. There’s a few beck crossings, one of which could be tricky if the beck floods, and there’s a bit of hillside in the process of collapsing which we’ll have to skirt around.

The guided walk through Hudeshope is next Saturday. If anybody asks, its seven miles, see?

 

Bob

Last year's experience on Carlin Tooth can't be repeated, even if it actually happened. Here's Bob, though.

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I may already have posted "Making Plans for Nigel (Ooweeyoo)"

I have a Saturday Afternoon Special walk at Barnard Castle tomorrow afternoon, then I'll be off for the train to Halifax (Where the wife has gone with superdawg tonight, so I'm left at home with two autistic cats) - and a family do at Embsay Sunday - for several birthdays including mine, my son's and my grandson's. Its not quite my birthday yet.

And its nearly November, which always seems like the end of the walking year to me, so I'm in the middle of making plans (for Nigel oweeyooo). Plans will include a Pumlumnon backpack, possibly the TGO Challenge, if I'm selected, Cadair Idris and other nearby hillocks, Dartmoor, South and central Wales hillbagging, the South Downs Marilyns and two weeks near Harlech for a rematch.

And I'm considering something spooky for All Hallows...... oooer.....

And I must sort out that competition we had.....

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