This is just a test to see that things are working – cos I have a new computer and everything has had to be re-set…
A picture of Lucky on the CtoC appears below: (hopefully)
Here, Lucky is waiting for his teatime dentastick. The inside of the tent is a shambles, as you can see.
If all this works, I’ll be blogging away again shortly.
Yes, folks, as the UK finally starts to crack up in the face of a divisive general election and members of the NHS throw themselves off nearby bridges whilst the TGO challengers arrive at their starting points on the West coast of Scotland, me and Lucky are off to St Bees to have a good old try at walking across England over the next two weeks.
We’ve practised. Lucky has a pack which holds six days food – although this would be far too heavy, so we’ve settled for four days food and my pack is stupidly heavy but should get lighter if I eat all the food in it.
We have support visits from family and friends and we have boots and kit and scoff and everything necessary for the setting off….
And tomorrow, we (me and Lucky) are catching the train from Corbridge to St Bees and whatever happens will be down to a combination of luck and determination.
Oooer
And bugger.
Pics and video taken from recent walks in Teesdale
On returning from visiting the new Grand-child at Dunbar, Lucky suggested that we could visit St Abb’s Head, which has a whole bunch of Tumps – the only climbable ones being Kirk Hill and St Abbs Head – the others being wave-washed sea stacks covered in seagull poo and lots and lots of squawking birds, all of which mitigates against any kind of attempt to get to the top.
So we did, we went to St Abb’s Head.
Our ramble began at the visitor centre car park (two quid for parking) and wanders down the lane for a bit before hurtling off towards beetling cliffs with huge drops into the crashing waves far, far below. The rock scenery is superb and there are subsidiary grassy lumps to be climbed at will – each one giving a different but dramatic view of the coast and , of course, the surf smashing against the spiky rocks.
After a few ins and outs, we left the main path to climb Kirk Hill. This was the site of the seventh century St Aebbe’s Nunnery-cum-monastery and was short-lived, having burned down shortly after St Aebbe’s death. There’s not much left, apart from some indistinct earthworks, but it’s a cracking place for any kind of institution, and this one seems to have occasionally played an important role in the politics of the aristocracy of Northumbria. Bamburgh Castle is only 25 miles or so down the coast and was visible when we visited. And it was here that St Cuthbert, being spied on from above, spent some considerable time immersed in the sea whilst praying (to ward off any licentious feelings he might have) (I can confirm that this strategy works by the way) was seen to be accompanied by two otters as he emerged from the briny. This is recorded as a miracle and regarded as evidence of Cuddy’s empathy with wild animals and birds. He could have just kept a few pets, innit?
After a steep drop, we rejoined the main path and climbed up to the lighthouse and the summit of St Abb’s Head. The summit furniture is a view indicator, indicating places such as Denmark and Aberdeen…
Just in case any of the local subsidiary lumps and bumps are ever promoted to Tump status, we visited them all. The rock scenery is even more impressive hereabouts, specially a huge gash in the hillside, occupied by thousands of birds teetering on rocky edges. Lucky they’ve got wings, really, or it..er….. could er.. be a bit ..er…..risky… koff.
Anyway, we returned to the start on a quiet bit of tarmac.
The whole thing was just under four miles.
And , apart from visiting the new sproglet, me and Lucky also bagged Edgerston Rigg near the border at Carter Bar, Gersit Law just by Ancrum Moor and sporting a fine mausoleum, Fans Hill West Top (just a few yards from the gate) and Stoneshiel Hill – another roadside easy bag – apart from the barbed wire fence… plus, plus, mind you, Dunbar beach, High Street (John Muir statue) and the garden centre next to Asda.
Here’s a map of the St Abb’s walk. Just goes to show that even very short walks can be more than rewarding. if you do this one, take your time and keep your kids and dogs on a lead in case they fall off something.
We drove up past the “No Unauthorised Vehicles Beyond This Point” signs to the car park (!) built for peeps using the Dun Fells bit of the North Pennines Open Access where we met the Bro and then wandered back down the road towards Knock, turning off into a field and then descending even further on a public footpath to almost the foot of the fine and green Tump called Flagdaw.
Flagdaw is well decorated with violets and has a cracking view of the snow-covered Lake District, the snow-covered Pennines and the snow showers battering in off the Solway Firth. Having bagged, we left, following the footpath and then the radar station access road as far as the radar station on the top of Great Dun Fell where a blizzard was just starting.
Braving the war dogs, special forces, land mines, man traps, armed drones and rude signs (there were none of these by the way), we huddled down behind the corrugated walls where it was almost warm for a short lunchtime.
Soon, however, blizzard number two started and Lucky tried to dig a nest in the snow and began to shiver miserably.
So we left.
We made a long and tussocky descent past the Silverband mines (not much more than spoil heaps and ponds, plus some more modern communications stuff) – and past the recumbent pylons of some kind of winching system, to the over-steepened edge overlooking our last hill – Burney Hill, in fact – named after a geordie comedian with a round face who liked to be chased across the countryside by girls in skimpy bikinis whilst slapping a small bloke around his bald head for no good reason at all.
Burney Hill is steep and green and quite a bit smaller than it looks. But it has another fine view of the snow-capped Lakes and a standing stone with a plaque on it, the meaning of which is a little obscure.
We returned to the knipemobiles by crossing Knock Ore Gill on a telegraph-pole bridge and a short heave up the tussocks (deleted line from Carry on Hiking) through newly planted rowans and other similar trees.
We did about seven and a half miles.
According to that Interweb thingy, the weather conditions on Gt Dun Fell summit were –2C with 45 mph gusts. That’s quite chilly. But we knew that.
Anyway, this is me off to Dunbar to visit the new baby for a couple of days.Any comments may take some time to be published. But don’t let this put you off.
Matt sent me a few pics taken on recent unblogged events at Goldsboro (abseiling) and a short and quite wet, in a watery, damp kind of way, camp at Stonethwaite and, as I know that a few Pieblog readers enjoy the odd cute pup pic, I thought I’d reproduce them here. Just cos, really….
As for his progress – he’s a cheeky little bugger and gets more and more playful as he gets confidence. He’s no longer scared of brushes, tins of beans, red peppers, paper bags or crisp packets.
And he specially enjoys Crook Dog Club where he gets to sit, down, wait, WAIT, I SAID WAIT accompanied by bits of cheese, sausage, dried fish,dried liver… you get the idea… I’m really pleased with his training and he does some things really well – he likes the tunnels but he does anticipate quite a lot of instructions and does whatever it is he’s going to be asked to do, just before I tell him to do it. And he’s very enthusiastic about it all.
But his bestest thing is snoozing. After brekkies, given that nothing else is on the agenda, he retires back to bed, and on sunny days, this means the fleece in the bedroom window which floods with hot sunshine in the mornings.
When camping, his bestest thing is to snooze in a tent. At Stonethwaite, he entered the tent as soon as it was ready, lay on his bed, was covered in an old woolly comforter and remained there all night whilst others enjoyed a relaxing booze-up under a drippy basha.
Quite soon, he’ll be embarking on his first multi-day walkies – the English (Wainwright version) Coast to Coast. We have the kit ready. We have the logistics sorted out (sort of, anyway). We may or may not be sufficiently fit and motivated.
In the meantime, and at the moment, he’s in his usual position in his bed, having a little doggy dream. Like wot they do.
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