Back in the hills
Time to give the mended knee a road test.
With the blessing of Settle physio John – he and his colleague Tim have done a great job helping to heal the torn ligaments in my right knee – yesterday saw me return to the hills.
And about time too.
Didn’t Steph and I move from Glasgow to the Yorkshire Dales three months ago with the express intent of spending as much time as possible exploring this beautiful landscape?
Thanks to the injury – a result of stupidly lifting stupidly heavy plant pots between addresses – this was only our second hillwalk in all that time.
And what an interesting day we picked.
Though it was cold and troublingly windy, most of the snow that had fallen a day or two earlier had gone; the streams were up and the ground which would have been frozen hard and easy to cross just a couple of days earlier was boggy and sodden.
Nevertheless, as we climbed the lane out of Stainforth that leads past the spectacular Catrigg Force, I felt elated to be heading back on to the moors and was propelled up the steep lane by the adrenaline of enthusiasm as much as anything else.
Our planned route – up to the force, over Fountains Fell and then on to Pen y Ghent and back by bus or the Ribble Way – was ultimately cut short at Dalehead by fading daylight (we’d not set off until late) and rumbling tums, as the strong wind and occasional hail showers had deterred us from stopping for any lunch.
Blimey, though, is Fountains Fell a damn fine bit of Yorkshire peat moor. It’s got it all: sink holes that could swallow a Bendybus (judging by the number of protruding tyres visible, some might already have done); limestone outcrops; great peat hags; wonderful heathers, remnants of old mine workings; a wonderful half-frozen tarn that’s going to make a great summer pitch, and more.
Swathes of moor grasses had turned a wonderful red that seemed to glow; it felt like we were walking across hot coals at times.
But it was the views, despite the low cloud, that made me feel like I’d arrived in the wonderful new home landscape I’d dreamt of. Ingleborough and Pen y Ghent, Malham Tarn, and the hills of Wharfedale – Great Whernside, Horse Head Moor, Buckden Pike and others – running all the way south down towards the moors above Skipton… marvellous!
I’m all fired up.
I’ll be out there at every opportunity, with any excuse. Whether it be to write routes, test gear, stretch the legs or just nip over to Arncliffe for a sneaky pint while Steph’s at work… stuff it, who needs an excuse!
Maybe I’ll see you out there.
Have fun,
John