Day 11 - The Touch of Middle Earth

This morning, at breakfast, we were introduced to the Park House B&B's resident cockerel, Alan. He's named after Alan Carr, partly because when he originally arrived he wanted nothing to do with the hens, was suspected of "batting for the other side" and harbouring a liking for quiche and flower arranging. Very soon after being released into the wilds of the garden he decided to bugger off into the woods, and wasn't seen for a couple of days, after which he came back with a dramatically different personality, and has been cock o' the roost ever since. That's one of the reasons that while I say "introduced" there was a good glass window between us. The other reason was that Mike and I were both chained to the breakfast table by a couple of good old fashioned doorstep bacon and egg sandwiches.

 

Soon it was time for us to follow in Alan's footsteps, and bugger off into the woods which, inevitably, meant an uphill slog for a while. Surprisingly, my legs felt pretty fresh, and we gained height pretty quickly until we were actually in the clouds, where we stayed for most of the rest of the day. Mike's day was set fair when his GPS beeped to signal a geocache location, and with a triumphant smile he unearthed a small Tupperware box containing what looked like a pencil, a notebook, and half a dozen toy soldiers.

 

Many ups and downs, and a side trip to a cafe which turned out to be closed, later, we got to the top of Cringle moor, where you can find Alex Falconer's seat, a stone bench and map at a viewpoint from which you can see as far as the North Sea, our final destination. Or at least you could, if the visibility was better that twenty feet. There were times, when all I could see was a thin track, with burned heather either side, with ghostly, ice cold fingers of cloud worming their way under any layers of clothing, that I though maybe "Yorkshire Moors" was a misprint, and that second word should be "Mordor", it was that similar to a scene from the Lord of the Rings.

 

And so, eventually, to Great Broughton, where I'm tapping this out in the company of a pint of Black Sheep, with a burger comfortable stashed away as fuel for the morning and our penultimate climb on this journey from west to east coasts. Internet access willing, there will be more tomorrow.