Clare reaches the top of the steps that take one up onto the Bowder Stone — a famous attraction of the Lake District that I have never before seen. Its name is tautological, for a big Bowder (boulder) it certainly is; hollow it out, install plumbing, and I imagine a family of three could live inside in comfort.
As you are probably aware, there was some interest in another football match taking place this evening, and we did watch it, but photographically, this is a better representation of the day. Clare takes a look around on the fourth leg of our attempt to walk the Calderdale Way in stages — see also Feb 28th, Mar 20th, May 25th — we’ve just about passed the halfway point. The aim was (although C has been heard to deny this) to get it all done within 2021. Three more legs to go now.
A planned walk up in the hills got little further than this bridge under the railway a couple of miles from home, which we were fortunate to reach just as the first really major thunderstorm of the summer passed through. Along with these two cyclists who arrived there simultaneously, we ended up spending around three-quarters of an hour there. The stream down the middle of the lane is not normally present.
Top of Flintshire, summit of the Clwydian Hills, Moel Famau appealed enough to the royalists of the early 19th century for them to begin building on it a tower to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of King George III. But this fervour clearly faded, and the construction was never finished. Nowadays it is just a place to rest after hauling oneself up to the 1,814 feet (554m) summit. But it looks good, and the view is magnificent. (For pictures of that, see my other blog.)
A very fine day was had in the Lake District. Even the sheep seemed to be enjoying it, and this ewe poses readily for the camera as they often do, with High Pike behind. A shame her lamb did not feel like joining in too, but one can’t have everything. (For more pictures from today, see my Wainwrights blog.)
A weekend away with the family. Corse Hill sits in the middle of a gigantic wind farm and although not a dramatic spot, was a nice place to break the journey north to Scotland and did become my 32nd county top — and Clare and Joe have picked up a few as well. C. looks suitably satisfied, Joe’s checking his phone, but that’s what he does.
The first non-English shot since 18th September 2020, which was day 3,312; thus, a run of 259 English-only shots comes to an end.
A glorious Sunday in the Lake District. The title of the post has layers of meaning. My walk today (see my Wainwrights blog for the details) involved a circuit of the placid and remote tarn of Devoke Water. It was a feature in multiple photos taken along the way, of which this was the last of the day.
But as I walked back to the car, I mused — is this perhaps the last ever? I have visited some of these marvellous places multiple times as I have gone round and round Cumbria over the last 12 years, but the project will end at some point (next year probably), and after that — will I find an excuse to return?
Some might say, that is in the hands of God/Inshallah/fate/whatever you believe. But in the end, I believe it is up to me. If this blog does make it to, say, day 8,000 — perhaps we will see this place again. I certainly hope so.
I went out on a walk today: the last day, officially, of my Easter break. I saw no reason to stay at home. I don’t know quite why I like this picture, except that it was one of those that worked out as anticipated; this is the picture I hoped it would be when I pressed the shutter. The road is the A1, a mile or so east of the town of Chester-le-Street, in County Durham.
Those nice people in Authority have promised not to threaten arrest for doing something as subversive as going on a walk, on one’s own, in countryside that doesn’t happen to reside within spitting distance of home. So Joe and I went out on a walk. I bagged my 600th Wainwright and Joe, his 50th. (Full details soon to be posted on my other blog.) Both those milestones came on Wether Hill, but that is a rather unphotogenic lump — Steel Knotts, its predecessor in each sequence, was rather better. It’s appeared before on the blog, too: pictured from a distance on 6/2/17.
From no direction do these rocks look particularly like a cow and its offspring, but that’s what they’re called. It doesn’t matter; it’s a dramatic spot, with the creatures grazing on the heather above the town of Ilkley, which can become the 339th different identifiable place to feature on here. No, I wasn’t at home.
Being 42 