If I had known what a nightmare this days trip would be, I would have just stayed in bed! Little did I know that I would have the full force of weather right out of the Old Testiment. The only thing missing was a plague of frogs! As a result, I didn’t take many photos, for fear of having my camera blown from my hands.
It all started so well. I decided to do the walk in three stages of 6 miles. The first stop being in Grassington. I stopped off to get a sandwich for later and some Midget Gems, purely for medicinal reasons you understand. I then had a pint of Black Sheep in a local, again, purely for medicinal reasons.
The light at this time of the morning was brilliant. An arty view of a bridge!
And another one! Blimey, I think I am starting to get a bridge fettish!
The problems began on the second leg from Grassington to Kettlewell, 5.5 miles. The winds kept picking up to galeforce, and I was climbing onto the top of the moors, so felt the full force, into my face. Then the rain came down, followed by hailstones being whipped into your face. Poor Rufus, he couldn’t find anywhere to hide. It was slow going, and took me three hours to get to Kettlewell. Rufus went straight into a pub and just sat down in front of the fire. I had to follow him in and order some more medicinal beer. I had no intention of going in before Rufus made up his mind to visit this hostelry. I was absolutely knackered, and this was made worse when a couple who also set off from Appletreewick came in and declared they were worn out but glad they had reached their destination. I still had six miles to go!
It takes a hurculean effort to pick yourself up from in front of a roaring fire and set of again when you have over three hours of hard trudge to go yet.
This was the highest point of the day, and then the lowest! Soon after this, the wind picked up so violently, it was difficult to stand up, and then the hailstones came down again!
This was a video I took at the height of the winds just after a hailstorm.
My pace was getting slower and slower as Imade my way to Buckden, the usual end point for the hardy walkers, but not me! Once I got to Buckden, I had a further mile to go, up to the top of the moors to Cray High Bridge. I was at snails pace now, with my feet in absolute agony. I arrived at 5.30pm – Not bad after all that.
The White Lion pub was OK, but the room was awful, and really cold. Poor Rufus couldn’t get dry, so he shivered himself to sleep. We had no internet or mobile or TV, so I did what you used to do in the old days. I read a book and ended up going to bed soon after 8pm, and slept through to 7am!
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