Off to a weeding

This is us off to a weeding..er.. wedding just now. A small contingent of Knipes and a Carter are just leaving ffor the exoctic climes of Junction 25 on the M1 where I've booked some very cheap beds in a desperate hotel.

Tommorrow, we will set up camp 1 at a small Knipe stronghold in Long Eaton for breakkies before pressing on to the even exotikker climes of Wellingborough for the actual conjoining thingy.

You ought to be relieved to know that this merging of ancient dynasties is unlikely to be the cause of any major global conflicts or lead to the violent deaths of very many people. So just be grateful for that.

We're off now....

Irrelevant picture attached.

The Father is dead, long live the sun

As you're probably aware, today was the shortest day - that is the day with the least daylight.

Tomorrow, there'll be just a tad more daylight than today and thus it will be until June.

This is surely something for walkers and other outdoors types to celebrate, unless you're a creature of the night, in which case it's a right bugger.

In effect, the natural year has now turned. So, to celebrate this, I determined to go up a hill and watch the sun come up (should have been tommorrow, but me father-in-law's outpatients appointments decree that it had to be today... its complicated, I'm not going to explain....)

And so, at stupid-o'clock this morning, with a large crescent moon hanging over the outer suburbs of Crook, I drove off in search of a sunrise.

It soon became clear, by the drizzle up the Dale, that this was not going to be a good morning for watching sunrises, but I was up and almost concious, so I parked up the knipemobile at Killhope mining museum and stumbled off in the dark up over the moor to the top of Killhope Law. This was quite an interesting exercise in foul weather navigation - dark and foggy and windy as it was...

Killhope is such a descriptive name, though dontcha think..... I mean, for such a hopeful day as this.

Anyway, it gradually came light, although, this didn't do all that much to improve visibility.

Somewhere over Gateshead way, the sun was rising in a coy sort of way, but here it was blowing a right old hoolie, mist hurtling past damply.

So I went to Alston to buy another breakfast and then to Brian's at Nenthead for coffee and to talk about the additional hole he's just had made in his bottom. (Its some sort of abcess thingy which needs packing with half a mile of Morecambe Bay seaweed every day. I don't want to know the horrific details, but it sounds deliciously painful and quite the sort of thing you would wish on a wheel clamper or truculent politician.

Then I went home for a sleep.

Bruno had punished the household for not being taken on this jaunt by scoffing a pound in weight of Christmas fruit cake; a present from Aunty May. He was apparently saving the big lump of Wensleydale cheese for later. Just now, he's a bit subdued whenever anybody mentions it. I'm monitoring him for signs of ill health, cos dried fruit isn't very good for dogs. He seems Ok, though.

Two of the pics show the driech conditions using two different camera settings. The other shows what Killhope Law summit really looks like. No idea what the big stick is for. On the map its described as a "mast". But it's a stick.

Anyway, so this is Yule. The old father is dead, say boo to the new born sun. This is the start of something better.

(Cue Herman Hermits track...)

The summit of Killhope Law, by the way, is just over 2200 feet above sea level and has a view which includes The Ettrick Hills, The Cheviots and lots of Pennines. Usually, well, sometimes anyway...

And the spring will bring us together forever

The lark will rise and sing from the clover

Rise to the promise of fine spring weather

Rise to the promise that winter is over.....

Ingleborough

Ingleborough – May absolute fave hill, and Bruno’s too. Actually, he’s no idea where he is most of the time.
I met the bro in Ingleton for this little pre Christmas trundle. The plan was to climb Ingleborough, walk along the hill for a bit, descend to the Old Hill Inn and walk back along Twistleton Scars – a very nice bit of karst scenery as it happens.
I changed the plan whilst driving South from Hawes – in view of the fact that the hillfog was down and there was no view, and it was tres windy and drizzly and I had a fingernail hanging off. I determined instead to explore the limestone scars along Ingleborough’s Western side and shelter from the gale in a clint. Or maybe a grike. Or a hole.
I changed the plan again at Crina bottom in view of the fact that the weather looked a bit brighter and it would be more fun up Ingleborough anyway.
And so, a short while later, after some huffing and puffing and the odd kerfuffle and fuss, including Bruno crapping all over Ingleton, which I had to clean up…we found ourselves in the wind-blasted summit cross-shelter on the..er…summit.
Not a good place for lunch – so we shuffled off down some snow and found a cosy spot behind a wall – scoffed – and then proceeded breezily along the edge of the very fine corrie heading Northwards.
A steep descent and a magnificent leap over a five bar gate by the dawg and we found ourselves in a deep hole or chasm, containing the entrance to Great Douk Cave. An impressive place, but too much water to explore in hillwalking kit.
The pub was open, but it was after 2:00 pm, and we had to negotiate Twistleton Scars, so we forego the pints of shandy (we certainly can live it up) and set off for Twistleton, finally abandoning that idea for a quicker march down the roman road.
Incidentally, the chapel at Chapel le dale has the earliest Knipe wedding I’ve found listed in the church register. In 1594 a Mergret Knipe married a chap called Foxcroft.
Foxcrofts, Metcalfes and Knipes continued to marry each other around the immediate area and down towards Settle for the next 200 years after which most of them seem to have buggerred off to Pennsylvania. They must have had the reception/booze-up in the Hill Inn…?
Anyway, at this point (today, not 1594), it started to chuck it down big style. We returned to Ingleton by walking through the last bit of the Ingleton Waterfalls walk in gloomy conditions. There was nobody to pay the £4.50 fee, so we didn’t. (£4.50!?, I remember when it was sixpence….)
I bought some beef and onion soup at a little bakery/café/hot soup shop and transported it up to Ribblehead to eat it. It was absolutely fab. Obviously homemade and, just, well, just fab. If I could remember the name of the place I got it from, I’d give them a plug. But I can’t. Shame, really…

Hello to the followers

This is just to say a brief "hello" to the nine followers wot I've got at the moment, including recent additions Eric Morecambe** (apparently) and somebody who looks spookily familiar, or at least familiarly spooky...
As at least 33 percent of my followers are now some of my favourite daughters (of the night) and one of their partners anyway, I would just like to point out that following this blog is no way to discover what you're getting for Christmas. The recipient of the rubber egg-laying rubber chicken thingy will have to remain a mystery, as will the magic drinking spectacles and the yellow blobby thing wot I've forgotten what its supposed to be - but probably dangerous for young children, so you at least you know who won't be getting it.
A special welcome too, to Eric... Nice one, sunshine...they can't touch you for it...

Has anybody noticed, by the way, how very little actual outdoor stuff most outdoor bloggers actually do? They really do need to get out more.... Or we'll have to start calling you indoor bloggers....

The pic attached to this post is completely irrelevant.

Plans and plans and a picture of Trex

Here’s a picture of Trex the cat relaxing in front of a nice warm Yuletide fire.
As its virtually the end of the year – (the amount of daylight starts to increase after next weekend – yippeeee!) – I thought I’d plan my stuff for next year, so I had this big session with Excel spreadsheets and maps and lists and here’s what I think…
Ive just joined the Backpackers Club, so I’ll try a couple or three of their meets early in 2009. These are in the Peak, Northamptonshire (no, really…??!) and Arkengarthdale. Then, of course, there’s the TGO Challenge in May, with a practise walk in April around Wanlockhead(ish)… and the TGO English gathering at the Snake Inn.
And I thought I’d plan a short winter few days in the Southern Highlands with me ice axe and stuff….
And a week in Brecon/South Wales for the Beacons and other things local to those hills. And another two weeks in October based somewhere like Harlech for the bagging of many Hewitts and Marilyns…
A summer Munroing week in Glen Etive/Grey Corries/Mamores.
I thought I’d bag some Birketts, specially Knipescar Common, and, I’ve never been to Pen on the side of Scafell Pike – and some local HuMPs and some Cheviot Deweys, and even more HuMPs and Marilyns in the Borders and Dumfries and Galloway. Plus my usual local Weardale/Teesdale/Tynedale/Swaledale things. And whatever else shall arise, probably in the form of various holes in Tynedale with Brian (currently suffering from something that needed lancing, that its not possible for him to view without a mirror – if you catch my drift. Anyway, it’s a very painful hole, apparently, so he’s out of commission for a while).
And that’s about it. Each of the first six months seems to have some time away from home. Its going to be fab.
In the meantime, it snowed again last night and today’s dog walk had to be extended to take advantage… Oddly enough, I got a bit lost just after it went dark and ended up with some horses trying to muscle the dogs out of the way….
And, also in the meantime, I’m planning something special for yer actual Yule on 21 December. But you’ll have to wait to see what that is. I hope it snows, though…