August
One of the last bits in the middle
You might remember that in the very early stages of this walk, we talked about the kind of things that can prevent you from going on a walk.
Well, as it happens, just the sort of thing that I said might happen, happened.
The result of this is that the August walk actually took place in early September, and I wasn't going to wait for yet another August to come around, since, in view of previous experiences, it just might not come around, or something else would happen, or I'd forget, or something like that. I just couldn't wait that long anyway.
The weather was August-ish anyway...
But I didn't say what happened. It was my car, y'see. One of the front wheels was wobbling about and I thought it might actually fall off. I'd put off doing the August walk during the main part of August due to indifferent weather, and close to the end of the month, I had a ten-day holiday in the Highlands. Towards the end of the hols, I became aware (due to some scary noises) that things weren't all they should be with the car. So I got out the RAC and, after quite a bit of messing about, they brought me home. Repairs took the best part of a week, during which, August expired and September came rushing in like a newly born month doesn't.
So I missed August.
You'll just have to pretend. Like wot I did.
During August, the following bits of domestic equipment also stopped working:
The dishwasher (I cut both thumbs trying to replace the front of this after I'd pulled it off in a vain attempt to mend it) - my digital camera - so no pics of the August walk, our home computer - which went firstly to Edinburgh, then to Halifax to be mended (don't ask!!), the lighting fuse at home every time we switch the downstairs hall light on and my garage roof , after a visit from the local "children" - and now lets in daylight and rain. So, all-in-all, August wasn't a very August month. I was glad to see the back of it, really...
I'll write the August walk as if it actually did happen in August. Nobody will know. It will be our secret. I'll just wink, whenever we mention which month it is...
Keep shtum about it eh?
August (ahem...)
Hooksey - Leathgill Bridge - Randygill Top - Green Bell - Weasdale
8 Miles - 1800 feet of ascent
The main purpose of this walk was to visit Hooksey and Leathgill Bridge, neither of which had been touched by the Knipe boots and paws, and which are significant places in the Howgill Fells. Hooksey, it has to be said, is just a fairly dull sort of grassy lump, but it is a significant top in the Northern Howgills. Leathgill Bridge, on the other hand, is a more interesting feature - a narrow grassy neck between two deep valleys, and linking Hooksey with Randygill Top.
In typical August (..kofff..) weather, it being a warm day - we parked in exactly the same spot as in our first walk, at the foot of Borrowdale, you know, where you can park tanks and stuff. I noticed three or four other cars parked on the little slip road just off the main road, so that's another place you can park. In fact, there is no deficiency in free parking around here. I think I can safely say that. Parking? No problemo!
So anyway, we set off along the same track as in walk one - the one with the cows, except this time there were no cows. And we just kept following the track, through the intake gate and out onto the moor and gently up the Western slopes of Hooksey. The path is relatively easy to follow, a bit vague in places maybe, but it gets better with height and soon, with sweat stinging the eyes on this hot August day, we arrived on the flat top where it was quite windy and, a bit cold. Maybe a hint of September about it eh?
On the top, sheltering out of the wind was a small group of ramblers, looking remarkably similar to the walkers I'd seen on the very first walk. They seemed to be in no rush to get anywhere. Quite right too. There's far too much rushing about going on.
Me and Bruno didn't hang around on Hooksey, though although, we had plenty of time. This walk is, I have to say, in the easiest category of hillwalks. The grass is short, the paths are good, the steep bits are limited and it's not very long. It's a half day, really. Dragging it out to a full day would require a fair bit of sitting around. On a warm, late summer afternoon, this could well be the very thing to do to relieve any stresses that may well have built up concerning how just about everything in the house can break all at once... For example.
As there's no pics of the August walks, here's a pic of a bomb I once slept with on a TGO Challenge (not a sex bomb!).
The slope down to Leathgill Bridge is a bit steep. And the slope up to the cairn on Randygill Top is a bit steep as well. Just a plod, really. Ropes not required.
It was around this point that Bruno mentioned that we hadn't had lunch yet but, as the late August breeze was threatening to rip off me hat, I considered that there might be a more sheltered spot over by Green Bell. I could see, for instance that little knots of sheep were gathering in certain places and, on a windy day, this is often a good sign of a sheltered place, the sheep not being true fans of getting their wool ruffled. So that's where we went, and after evicting a bunch of grumbling ewes, we settled down out of the wind, just below the trig on Green Bell. I could see the ramblers struggling up the final plod to Randygill Top as I munched my butties whilst Bruno relaxed by dribbling on my trousers and boots. A fine, sunny spot it was too for a scoff and a bit of a snooze.
After a short visit to Green Bell trig, we took the path to the North (there's a seemingly better path heading North-eastish) and this took us gently down over the fell towards Weasdale. It's a fine, easy, spacious romp down the hill with good, open views all around. Most enjoyable.
Finally, after a couple of minor track junctions, we came out on tarmac just a few yards East of Weasdale. A farmer there seemed to be in a jolly sort of mood and enquired if we'd been over the tops and what a fine day it was. I had to agree about the day and told him that we had, indeed, been "Ower t'tops". What he actually said was "Otter bowels have seven elements. More Ribena, I think, mother." And smiled, toothlessly. I think he was probably a bit chuffed about the fact that the recent Foot and Mouth movement restrictions had just been lifted in time for the annual lamb sales. This is when hill farmers make much of their income, so there's little wonder that he was in a good mood. The cruel thing about this tale is that a few days later, the restrictions were reimposed and he wouldn't have got to the lamb sales.
Our route now took us along the Gars lane bridleway, where I met with some cyclists, one of whom could well have been in the first stages of realising that he wasn't really up to it (I wonder if he's had his angiogram yet?).
And so that was that, then.
The end. The last walk.
Away home.
No sense of either climax or anti-climax.
Will I ever come back to the Howgill fells?
Will I write the conclusion just yet?
