A brief break in the telling of the North to The Cape caper - there's more on the way.
Christine and I drove up to Hawes on Friday night in the campervan - we'd had enough discomfort in small tents and bothies of late. The River Ure was flowing well. Christine asked me, "Do fancy having a go at that one?", alluding to our recent stream crossing activities. "No I haven't got my gaiters with me". "You surely don't think they'd make any difference?". "Well, yes, a psychological one". "In that case you be better wrapping them round your head as a blindfold."
It rained all night, of course, and we set out quite late on Saturday morning to walk over Dodd Fell and Drumaldrace, both Mintoes or Norberts or something like that. Whenever I see Dodd Fell mentioned I think of the old joke about Ken Dodd:
Ken Dodd's just died
Did he?
No ,Doddy
Anyway, after getting lost in Gayle - yes I know, it's not big enough to lose anything in - we picked up some Pennine Way signs which seemed to be going in the right direction. It started to rain but we are used to that. It got windy - really quite windy. We are used to that too. We reached the summit despite these setbacks.
Another fine summer's day
I think I'm going to write to the Ordnance Survey. Someone has planted the trig pillar in the middle of swamp. What's all that about? Surely that can't be the top? If it was the top, all the water would be draining away from it - wouldn't it?
Anyway, there were fine views of P-Y-G, Wherneside and Ingleborough. They'd have been finer with less cloud but it was nevertheless impressive to see them from a different angle.
Bit of a navigational nightmare and lots of splodging to get down to the Cam Houses road. I managed to open up a cut on my thumb, which I'd created on Thursday evening slicing a pepper (ok, I admit it was an alcohol related accident), with the result that I had blood pouring down my hand whilst trying to find the first aid kit and peel open a plaster with my teeth. I'm writing to Boots as well to have words about the way they pack their product.
We walked within spitting distance of Drumaldrace but given the ominous black cloud approaching, didn't feel inspired to go to the top. I'm not a ticker and Christine had ticked it already, albeit almost entirely from the comfort of a Vauxhall Astra (no hang on, that's an oxymoron).
Semer Water, Addlebrough and an ominous black cloud from below Drumaldrace
So on down to Burtersett, passing within spitting distance of the top of Yorburgh, and along the wrong footpath back to the campsite.
10.6 miles, 1750ft
