How to ramble .....

I've recently read a really funny article about rambling and laughed out loud at some of the comments - thought you might like to share it ..... (it's quite scary how true some of this is .....)

One of the unintended consequences of cutbacks in rail services has been the relentless rise in rambling. When there are few trains to spot, dull people start walking around aimlessly and inevitably start rambling.

Ramblers have boiled sweets in flavours so repulsive you'd rather eat your own leg in an emergency situation. They wear high tech anoraks that wick heat and moisture away from their bodies and release it into the noses of other ramblers. Ramblers have big boots. This is to stop them falling over when they've had their second pint of real ale at the end of their epic four mile ramble.

Ramblers travel in packs and are always led by a man or woman with a beard and a big knobbly stick. He's known as Ramblo. Ramblers have maps in perspex holders (so they won't get soaked by all the moisture being wicked away from their bodies). With these detailed maps and large compasses, they can work out that they're three hundred yards from the car park.

Ramblers engage in conversation when they walk, and it's no surprise that they tend to ramble. In any pack of ramblers you'll have someone who knows a bit about birds, someone who knows a bit about plants, and someone who knows a bit about soils. The upshot of this is that you can't move five yards without one of them piping up with a half hour lecture on the fascinating clays that everyone's big boots are currently sinking into.

Ramblers love unspoilt countryside, and sometimes you can spot great packs of brightly coloured ramblers grinding through the country getting the maximum enjoyment from it. Ramblers think that the best way of seeing the country is to walk directly behind some achingly dull cagouled idiot for six hours.

You can always tell a rambler because they're dressed for the Himalayas. They're the ones carrying the emergency bivouac, Primus stove and distress flares on the Thames towpath. Long distance paths do a great service to society by keeping ramblers in remote parts of the country for extended periods and well away from normal people.

Defeated by the Angles Way .....

Finn and I were having a day on the Angles Way today from Earsham (near Bungay) to Harleston - only eleven miles and flat - lovely, just how we like it!

As we walked through a meadow alongside a river, we were soon thwarted though after only three miles to discover the bridge that we needed to cross was no longer there :-( We retraced our steps and tried to find another path to link up with the footpath so that we could carry on, but were out of luck there also - the field was criss crossed with electric fences and was just too much of an obstacle. Added to this, Finn had by now rolled in at least four cowpats so I couldn't imagine that any bus/taxi driver would let us within fifty yards of their vehicle. Time to call it a day and head back to the car.

So the day's plan was then redrawn and a diversion was made via a garden centre for compost and a fun afternoon ensued in the garden building more brick walls and planting out shrubs.

And, although the walk was aborted, I still maintain I DID my eleven miles today, most of them chasing Finn around the garden to give him a bath. Bloody dog!

Yorkshire 3 peaks - The walkers tale

Finally the long awaited day had come, the drive up to the Dales for the the Yorkshire 3 peaks challenge. Late afternoon 3 cars descended onto Kearstwick and our base camp. OK will come clean, nothing like Everest Base Camp but a rather posh 5 bedroom cottage, but the trepidation was there for some! After a gossip catch up with Rachel about the Lotus F1 team a walk down to the Orange Tree to satisfy rumbling tummies was next on the agenda and arrival of Amanda and Marti. Their late departure saw them stuck in traffic and had tried to contact us on 3 separate mobiles, but all went to voice mail for various reasons. My voice mail went something along the lines of we are passing Maidstone, going to be late, will introduce myself properly when I see you but I am sensible, followed by which button do I press to stop this message? Yes we had our first taste of Marti, a new addition to the "Tears for Bears" family. The girls duly arrived (via Aberdeen apparently) and tucked in to some decent grub. We must of cleared the pub out of Gammon Steaks? Once again Jocky didn't clear his plate, his reputation is fading fast!

So Saturday morning dawned to a frost and by 7am where up and out and on the road to Horton. Amanda and Karren as support crew, the rest starting the walk. Met up with Ian and Rob and at 7.50am passed the Cafe, we were off! Ian had done this several times before although as it turned out there were loads of people, obviously a popular challenge, so as long as the others knew where they were going we could be sheep and follow them! Our challenge was to do the 3 peaks which entailed a 24.5 mile circuit in under 12 hours.

So up to Pen-y-ghent (694 metres - 2,276 feet) we went, quickly the layers started to be removed and the first emergency of the day. Marti needed a hair band! But thanks to Jocky's TA training, a toggle off the rucksack was used to manufacture a solution, sorted! With Finn leading the way we soon reached the base of the scramble. Ian by now was convinced I was a Japanese Tourist (taking pictures), but as the rest know, I do have fun playing with the results! So up we went, peak one, time for Rachel to exorcise her demons. On trail trekkers the words of "never again" were uttered. Didn't seem as bad this time or maybe it was because we hadn't been walking 10 hours beforehand? Finally we where there, all present and correct. With Blue skies, you could see for miles, truly breath taking thanks to the views and the wind!!! Gazing across to Whernside (peak number 2), it seems absolute miles, but the Viaduct could be seen and would be our first support crew stop.

So down Pen-y-ghent we go across a boggy bit and a good pace in glorious sunshine with all in good spirits. Pace was good, actually very good so a text sent to say we would arrive early. But mobile reception was soon lost again and on arrival at Ribblehead (midday), no sign of the support crew. But Jocky and his full size rucksack which had everything bar the kitchen sink produced some goodies. The sight if the Princess Elizabeth steam train crossing the viaduct got the boys dashing for there camera's and a reminder that I had a thigh strain and shouldn't of done that! The arrival of the girls and grub saw Ian and Rob look flabbergasted, they obviously hadn't heard about our feasts but didn't turn down the opportunity to replenish the spent calories. Rachel decided to give her knee a rest and join us for the third peak so the girls retired to the pub and rest of us set off.

Along the railway, past a small waterfall and then up a long constant incline to the Whernside ridge, the highest point of Yorkshire (736 metres - 2,415 feet). Many found this hard going, looking up ahead, people looked like ants but bit by bit up we went. Finn was going strong and got the impression was taking Susan for a walk, not the other way around, while Steve had a family reunion! Eventually we reach the top, it was 2.15pm, Pen-y-ghent was on the horizon. Seemed difficult to believe we had waked all that way. Reaching this point raised the spirit and looking across to Ingleborough, we had a real purpose in our step. But when ever you go up, you have to go down, unless you have an helicopter ( But as Rachel had pointed out earlier, we should be careful as the rescue helicopter was grounded, thats thinking ahead for you!!!) so had no choice and as many found this the worst bit. The next pub stop was reached and surprise surprise inside was the support crew who didn't move an inch and bunged us the car keys to resupply!

So to the final stage, Susan's knee's where not happy so decided to call it a day as did Rachel. Marti who had never walked more than 16 miles and thought she would do one peak, possibly two at a push, now had a decision? But this was helped along by the announcement by Amanda there was now no room left in the car for anyone else! So after declaring Marti an honorary boy much to her dismay. Ian, Rob, Steve, Tristan, Jocky and Marti set off for the final peak, it was now 4.10pm, 3 hours 40 minutes left.

In many ways Ingleborough looks the most imposing. At 723 metres 2,372 feet its only 44 feet lower and there is no obvious way up. But as you got nearer most of us took a gulp as we could just make out the zigzag path up, if Rachel had seen that, that would of been an instant 180 degree's turn! But we hadn't come all this way to turn back now and up close it wasn't so daunting although a number of brief stops on the way up helped and actually scaled it in 14 minutes. We were there, on the top plateau, looking like a lunar landscape. A last climb saw us to a wind break and the trig point, We had done it! Although for one member this didn't sink in for several minutes!!! Of course by now we had become cocky, no peak was too high and we demanded a 4th! But looking at the watch needed to get back to Horton.

The decent was a tricky at first but became easier with Jocky suddenly demanding that we opened out our legs further! By this time of the day, the team joke was that Marti, how can we put it, has something to say about everything! But determined to prove this was untrue went on a silence which would last until we got to the pub, an hour away. Difficult to convey in a Blog but we had great fun trying to make Marti say something be it via phantom phone calls demanding her attention to sudden off the cuff remarks. But as hard as we tried, we kept failing. Steve treated us to one if his Happy Dances, so asked Marti if she had one. A dead fly impression in silence prevailed and had us in stitches plus the walkers following us! So through the Limestone pavement we went, still trying to get Marti to speak as well as trying to give Jocky the run around and before we knew it Horton was in sight. We had hit the village and reached the cafe at 11 hours and 35 minutes. Ha, no problem, call that a challenge!

Said good bye to Ian and Rob (Marti was still in silence and felt a bit embarrassed) so made our way to the pub. A freelander passed and thinking it was them (Ian/Rob), we all waved, but it wasn't, the occupants must of been well confused? So to the door Marti sprints, challenge completed, words of joy followed by the dead fly impression with full sound affects surrounded by loads of walkers, classic!

Suitably refreshed and no "Tristans" having taken place back to the cottage to find the girls had run out of wine, so all in all an excellent time was had by all! The following day it has to said, Jocky was doing a good impression of John Wayne and Marti had found a way to go down stairs side ways quite elegantly. Such are the sacrifices on a Tears for Beers weekend. Another classic which for me, will remember for ever... :o)

Yorkshire Three Peaks Weekend

The weekend started for Marti and I after an early shift at work where I learnt a new nursing skill I was desperate to practice on the walking team - enemas!!!!

The journey north was fairly eventful, punctuated by Marti forgetting to tell me where to come off the motorway because she had climbed into the backseat to liberate her chipsticks from the boot because they were taunting her, and several near misses due to being unable to find the directions, the map, Steve's email instructions and finally my phone. Eventually this was found under the passenger seat and we left several voicemail messages for the team informing them of our progress which for some reason caused a certain amount of hysteria on our part. Finally at around 9pm we arrived at the pub following a detour via Aberdeen and Maidstone.

Saturday morning saw us all up bright and early and on our way to the starting point. In order to foster team spirit, the walkers all travelled together in Jocky's car and Karran and I (aka support crew extraordinaire) followed in mine, desperately trying to keep up. I'm sure Jocky sees himself as Emerson Fitipaldi!

At first Karran and I were nervous about spending the day together as we had nothing really in common - apart from being born 3 days apart; being mothers of twins; working in social/healthcare settings; having not the slightest intention of walking this (or any other) weekend; not paying any attention to Jocky when he is telling us where to go or following his directions..... In fact, neither of us could actually remember how we got to the starting point because we were too busy nattering and not paying attention to the route!

After a fond farewell (!) Karran and I breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the cottage (which we would never have found without purloining Jocky's SatNav) to make the sandwiches and pasta salads and to pack my car with sustenance. We also decorated the cottage with (pink) balloons and banner for Rachel's surprise birthday party later that evening.

Good progress was made over Pen-y-Ghent and Karran and I were summonsed 90 minutes early, so after a quick pit stop in Kirby to buy batteries, jelly babies, deep heat and drugs, we travelled to the meeting point at the Ribblehead Viaduct. This journey was not pleasant and ended with me falling out with the SatNav because the snarky bitch kept telling me to 'turn round immediately' and to 'learn to drive'. I'm not kidding.

After a quick refuel, the walkers continued on to Peak No 2 minus Rachel who had been medically retired from taking any further part in the proceedings. Karran, Rachel and I made the executive decision to wait in the pub rather than return to the cottage where we spent a pleasant couple of hours in front of the fire waiting for Whernside to be conquered. (Well I think it was Whernside - I did check with one of the walkers and was told ' I think it was Whernside but you better check with someone who gives a sh1t. All I know is that I didn't like it!)

Susan was medically retired at the next pit stop and so Karran and I did our St John's Ambulance bit and took Rachel, Susan and Finn back to the cottage to rest and recuperate. As a nurse I was extremely worried about their hydration levels and not wanting another 'Tristan' incident, I immediately prescribed them 5 bottles of wine to be consumed before Steve, Jocky, Tristan and Marti returned to base camp, triumphant at having conquered all 3 peaks in under 12 hours.

Following a raucous dinner of steak cobblers, followed by spotted dick and birthday cake we all eventually retired to bed. All in all a fantastic weekend!

Over to one of the walkers for their perspective......