You may wonder why, bodies aching having completed The Herriot Way, we felt the need to walk another largely vertical eleven miles? Opening the curtains I did too…then again it was my stupid idea.
Last year’s trip – The Dalesway – acquainted us with a wonderful pub and host, like many in these parts; so we just had to see Ed at The George again, as close as we were.
What a pity about our return to the George & Dragon. The pub is fine, the accommodation very good, the food wonderful and the staff courteous; regrettably the landlord needs to go to Customer Care Club.
One simple request from Birthday Boy to light the open fire was met with a curt “no!” as he buggered off, more interested in his drinking buddies. Piss poor; and then there were four.
Big Al and Uncle Andy would not be with us as we climbed over the hill to Hubberholme but at least we would be bag free and moving “fast”. Meanwhile, Big Al would have a chauffeur and an early ticket to the bar, his dream day.
I did not need Carol from BBC Breakfast to tell me our luck had run out with the weather. Having watched Rod Stewart being interviewed, I took an early breakfast adjacent to a table full of people the same age moaning about pills and prescriptions. I knew which camp I wanted to be in.
GPS was complaining about heartburn and a multitude of ailments. What could it be he asked.
“How about five days on the piss?” countered Uncle Andy.
Meanwhile, Leapy was sulking as Mrs Lee had said he looked like Papa Smurf in a photo. He would have to spend a bit more on that washing machine.
Big Al did look even rougher than usual although Leapy was to blame for apparently keeping him against his will in a bar until the early hours; how unusual we all thought. Or perhaps Leapy was making full use of the Freedom Leash while he could.
It was time to bid Big Al and carer Uncle Andy farewell for now; we had a gentle stroll to complete.
For some reason the only way of walking these parts involves a thinning of oxygen levels. By the end of our gentle stroll we would find we had done another six hundred metres.
I offered an early contender for quote of the day: “Looks like the rain is holding off!” There followed three hours worthy of a monsoon.
The annual end of walk resolution was made as I vowed to torch my boil in the bag Go Outdoors value range which, by now, I reckoned I had lost a stone in weight despite five days on the piss.
I was not sure if I was wetter on the inside our outside, at least until I chanced a leak in the howling wind. The joy of advancing senility I suppose.
As GPS confessed to almost leaving the gadget on a wall, we reached another signpost and it struck me that every one of these kept directing us to the same place – Bridleways – would we ever see Big Al and Uncle Andy again?
By now I was worried as Whispering was limping for the first time in five days. Here is a man that walks like a jungle cat, all loose limbs and full predatory threat. Maybe carrying GPS’s bag all day full of Sudocrem had taken it’s toll.
Eventually we descended from the clouds, soggier than four over-used teabags, GPS giving Whispering the odd thwack with his cane to ensure the bags reached our destination.
We saw a sign for The George reflecting Bradford born writer JB Priestley’s connection with this wonderful inn. I found it quite hurtful that Leapy suggested that my literary efforts would be unlikely to threaten JB.
The only thing left to do was for GPS to tip his servants.
We burst through the door to the unbelievable news that Big Al had not been sighted near the bar. Ed was apoplectic – ” You told me he could drink!” – as he welcomed us again.
It was beer time…what else.
Footnote
A week of stupid pain, physical strain and a diet that would kill you if it lasted any longer than it did, we had survived again. Great company, an unending source of banter and ridicule plus what drove us all week, a sense of real achievement.
We could not have done this without Cath Wilson’s (not you Mum!) generous sorting of accommodation and the route itself. Pity she could not walk with us to save GPS holding it instead!
Perhaps summed up by Uncle Andy as follows in his Facebook post.
The sense of achievement is very gratifying and over whelming. Would I do it again?…… No!
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