I was grateful for the rain on Tuesday night as Monday’s walk had been a bit of a crippler. Likewise I set off in relative high spirits last night only to be brought to a painful halt a few times en route. Google maps has my route for last night down as pretty much dead-on five miles, my Fitibt (and me) would estimate this to be closer to six. I suppose in the end it doesn’t really matter that much, as long as I am still out there walking and getting in some exercise.
But it’s not just exercise which is leading me out of the house, no sir! More often than not I am going for ‘mindful walks’. Yes, I’m not a fan of buzzwords and new fangled ways of thinking but in this case it’s actually true, walking for the sake of getting out of the house and away from the TV does make me feel better, well not just better but good! Every so often this ‘good’ is punctuated by a bout of pain as yet another thing screws up in my knee, but when that subsides I do feel optimistic, upbeat even! This effect tends to intensify the further I go away from civilisation, on The Moss I’m practically euphoric! Of course every so often it does get squashed when I fear I may be taking the wrong route…but well we can’t let that stop me now can we?
Well, because I had to go into work – I promised for some reason, I thought that getting the 10K in would be a synch, just have a walk around the fitness trail at lunch – that always nets around 4.5K then get the rest at night. Ahem, storm Francis had a different theory which worked out as: ‘Let’s torrent it down all down with a 50 m.p.h. wind! Subsequently I only managed to get in 7K for the day, essentially walking to the car and back. To make matters even more sinful, what did we have for our evening meal? Well lets just say that this was inspired by a white-haired American gentleman with a deep south accent (or so the legend goes). So, I’m not going to dwell on this, onward shall be the silent cry and we’ll just deal with it.
Flushed with the success of last Saturday’s walk incorporating some of the best of Marshside, Churchtown and The Moss, I’m hoping for similar weather this weekend, and thankfully I have three days to aim at to get out and about. I don’t know where yet but it would be nice to get over to the coast road as it’s such a lovely place to amble when 1. it isn’t raining and 2. it isn’t closed – which it is at the moment but I don’t know if this is just for cars etc.
Still recovering and more importantly how quick was it before I got too busy to carry on with the daily updates? It’s always the same, normally I get to around day three then just never seem to make the time to carry on…hence the compressed version.
So anyway, the healthy eating kind of petered out – especially closer to the weekend, the lure of the chip shop plus we have been really bad at food shopping, we are such authors of our own demise, when we shop properly we do it healthily…Anyway, I’m going to make a more concerted effort to cut out the bread again.
On the urban walking side of things, the knee is slowly getting better, or maybe I’m just adjusting my walking gate so as to avoid putting as much pressure on the right as I am on my left? Monday to Wednesday I kept to the 10,000 steps per day then had a lousy Thursday and Friday which meant a tad of overcompensating on Saturday. Chris had to work at home so that left me free to do a fantastic walk which headed up towards Marshside, through Churchtown and onto The Moss which I followed all the way to Pool Hey Lane where I then dropped back down to Scarisbrick and picked up the road back to the Norwoods before turning off and filtering back through some of the quieter roads before joining Sussex Road and onto home. All told this topped out at 23,000+ steps and over ten miles so I was happy all weekend! I even managed to just about get in a 4.25 miles walk around the Hesketh loop and park on Sunday which made for a good start to this week. Tonight however, we have to go food shopping so I might not get out for a walk tonight and I’ll be chasing the daily total all week again. Maybe we should go food shopping on Sundays instead of ambling around garden centres that always have too many sheeple in them!
During this pandemic I have tried to stay active. With regret, I’ve done something wrong in the pursuit of this.
Although I wouldn’t say I’ve been pounding away and amassing many miles, I did try to do at least my ten thousand steps per day, and some times far in excess of this. However, my legs did start to hurt more and more. At first I wrote this off just to being Southport and its highly uneven pavements…but I did a google around and some of the descriptions of symptoms sounded a bit like mine and to be honest, our diet has been lousy with way too many chips and take-outs….and way too much alcohol on my behalf.
Anyhoo I contacted our Doctors – an event in itself that could turn one to drink, and was given an over-the-phone-diagnosis of “Iliotibial Band Syndrome”. Essentially this is inflammation of a tendon around the side of my right knee. A ‘sports’ injury’ no less, I was almost proud. However, given the GP didn’t even see me in my new found, portly++ status I think the diagnosis might be a bit off, we tend to assume people are relatively fit unless information to the contra is available. The GP has advised me to make an appointment to see the Physiotherapist at the Hospital and I do intend on following through with this…once I find out where I stand with this at work, as I need to be able to get to the hospital during the working day and currently I can’t build up any flexi-time in order to do this.
The above will be sorted as I believe there is a case to say that if I am not afforded the time off; they (my works), will be instrumental in delaying my recovery (and who’s to say that being sat indoors all day every day has not been a causal effect? But, let’s not pretend that I’m free from blame here, I’m not. Now, more than ever, I simply have to take better care of myself. With regards to exercise, for now, baby steps will have to be taken, but taken consistently. I’m hoping to keep to my 10,000 steps per day, there is no scientific evidence available to say that this figure is at all key, in any way. What this figure does do though is to set a target, 10K steps per day still has to be better than none! For my implementation of my recovery I believe that a morning, noon and night regime of around 3-4 thousand steps gained by walking either around Hesketh Park or by walking around the near-neighbourhood should aid without causing any further damage. This has not been possible lately, but only because of really feeble excuses and I think now it is vital to just get things done…in order to stay alive and not lose any limbs, it’s that important.
Also, I think keeping some sort of journal may help “Tad-ah!” I know that I do struggle to keep to routines for blog / diary type entries, but I have to give it a try, we don’t change without changing, and I really want to change.
Enjoy the header picture, two Willows at Hesketh Park.
Breakfast was: A conference pear with Blueberries covered in Tesco Greek Yogurt with Honey.
Morning walk was: from 07:45 to 08:15, around 3,200 steps.
Lunch was: a can of Sardines with a handful of olives, a large cup of spinach, some Aldi sun-dried tomatoes and three teaspoons of Tesco Chill and Tomato Pesto .
Lunch walk was: a circuit of Leyland Road, Roe Lane and Park Road returning via Queen’s Road at 1800 steps (The latter half of which were very painful). Then I had a chance to add to the total by going to McColls for a can of kidney beans – they had none, then back home and out again to the Spar for said kidney beans and some milk and some chopped tomatoes.
Evening meal will be a stew of red kidney beans, chopped tomatoes, a chopped pepper, onion, Worcester Sauce (1 tbsp) 250Gm of lean minced beef (5% fat), chestnut mushrooms, a clove of garlic…essentially it’s Chilli con carne but without the Chilli as Chris is a Chilli wimp!
Evening walk didn’t need to happen as I’d got most of my steps in during the day and cleaning the hallway got the rest.
This post contains frank and robust language, if you are easily offended (you big snowflake) then you’d be best flouncing off now!
I’m fairly sure that I’ve pinched that header from Stephen King’s epic pandemic-themed “The Stand”, kind of poignant given the state of things.
So, what’s been going on?
The world turned to shit – sorry, did you miss that bit?
2. The flat sale fell through, either as a direct result of point “1”, or because one of the below was a complete incompetent:
a. The potential buyer, who was a bit soft in the head and for a thirty-something year-old really should learn to speak up for himself.
b. Our Solicitors’ “Conveyancer & Team Leader” was at best, a dick!
The buyer’s solicitor got fired…or at least that’s what we were told. Personally I think the buyer’s control- freak of a father put that one out there as a delaying tactic to try and get the price down! Never admit you’ve got a purchase lined up folks – some twats will use the possibility of you losing your purchase as a bargaining tool!
3. Both Chris and I have been working from home…and enjoying it, well it’s hard to feel bad about a three-second commute!
There’s no two ways about it, working at / from home is a completely different experience, you get to have the TV or radio on – we’ve chosen to alternate as too much TV can be really quite boring and each mainstream internet radio station has a playlist of about thirty songs, and there’s just only so much Ed Sheeran and Dua Lipa to which you can be subjected!
Now, it’s hard to deny that we are right on the border of comfortable working, the flat is too small for two people to live let alone set up an Argos table and two chairs and two monitors and two laptops every day…but we manage. And I drink a lot of coffee!
Of course I’ve still had to get out and about, whereas some people took every instruction and guideline from our wonky government as gospel…no matter how much we tried to get it mixed up, they said we could do an hour’s exercise, then someone who sounded like they knew what they were talking about said – there was no time limit…I was never going to stick to any time limit anyway and on V.E. Day (to which I still strongly object) I walked close to twelve miles…not in an hour!
I am lucky to live near “The Moss”, a large tract of agricultural land punctuated by the odd road, which only Southport cyclists seem to find worth venturing upon! Thus this leaves most of the area free for me to walk with limited fear of catching Covid 19 off someone hyperventilating, even I have to agree that I couldn’t say the same about a potential walk to either of my two local haunts, the West Pennines and Pendle. In essence, this is a compromise, however, it doesn’t feel one when you’re pounding the pavement on route to Longmeaneygate – yes, that’s really the name of a street, admiring the Cow Parsley and Ragwort, and by God has there been a lot of those aforementioned flowering weeds in bloom this year! In addition I’ve started to ‘Covert! – ‘oh really?’ I hear you wonder, no, nothing sinister, I plucked up the courage to walk through a small wooded area, purely out of curiosity really and its name is Pitts House Covert…I found this vaguely amusing. This little micro-forest has quickly become a favourite and when Chris joins me, even she likes it there, the Photo’s to follow.
So although I’ve not exactly being stomping all over the county (country?) I have been getting in the odd mindful walk to counteract the effects of otherwise being stuck in the flat for almost 24 hours per day, some days.
On a related note, hasn’t it been sodding hot this spring / summer. I’m not against that, but as we live in a first floor flat, lugging 15 litres of water down to hydrate the flowers etc does get to be something of a chore which is why I’ve practically basked in the odd fleeting shower – again photos to come, of the flowers – not me basking!
The lockdown in itself has been good for me. There, I’ve said it. There was no denying that January’s and February’s (God I fucking hate this laptop’s tiny keyboard!) stress over the flat sale and subsequent fail took its toll on me in terms of stress, the lockdown purely and simply took that away. No, I would not have wanted tens of thousands of my fellow countrymen and millions of people across the world to die just so I could destress, that would be ridiculous and inhumane. I’m just saying that for me, it’s worked out, by and large, to be quite therapeutic. I’ve even enjoyed shopping, albeit at the height of the “key workers are angels” phase it was obnoxious being treated as fodder by store workers – hey treat me as you would want me to treat you is all that I would want.
We’ve put the flat back on the market, and up to now: 16/6/2020 we have had three viewers. I was suckered in by the first one who was oh so positive about the place that I thought he was going to put in a bid there are then – I’ve learned, this means ‘I’m too embarrassed to tell you how much I don’t want this place!’ I don’t expect we’ll get any real interest until lockdown is well and truly over and even then it might not be until after Christmas, so we’ll just have to deal with living life as it is and not get stressed. I don’t like stress – it smells metallic, yes it does!
Ultimately with regards to the year thus far, I do find myself harking back to the Amble in February walking along Catherine Edge with the brilliant “Everything I wanted” by Billie Eilish going through my head and just contrasting how different everything was then compared to now.
And as I am ready to click publish, we have just accepted an offer on the Flat – one circle closes…
Coming soon, but only after lockdown, Saturday 5th September, 2020
What’s your motivation for this walk?
Well, this is an easy one, I’ve not been on a walk of over five miles since February when I did the 17-miles version of the Anglezarke Amble. I miss my time out on the moors immensely. I am a member of the Facebook group “I belong to Bolton “ where during the lockdown there have been numerous posts related to the magnificent scenery which makes a fantastic backdrop to most Bolton scenes. This walk will be a celebration 🥳 a huge and resounding sigh of relief of having made it through this terrible virus 🦠
For those requiring a text description, I’ll add a printable pdf at some point but for now, here goes:
We start off at the smallest two car parks at Rivington near to the Rivington Hall Barn. We head west for a couple of hundred feet before taking a right hand turn. This bears right and for a few minutes we’ll be heading in the opposite direction to which we just came from, fear not, all too soon we will be on the main bridal way to lead up to all the attractions. We’re now going uphill!
After several hundred metres, the path splits, we are going to take the left hand route, the right hand one will lead you back to the Japanese gardens should you so desire. The path steepens a little but then levels out. There are numerous left hand turn-offs but essentially we are keeping to the same track until next to the disused toilet block, a lovely feature of the route.
Now, we are going to take the obvious route up to the Pike via the steps. These can be a bit of a nightmare so if you want to take the slightly more circuitous route which branches off to the left hand side then go for it, we’ll see you at the top! For the rest of us it’s a short, sharp ascent of the huge steps before puffing, panting and swearing at me and then we are at the top of the first climb.
Have a breather (please), take some selfies and enjoy the view. Yes that really wide path does lead up to Winter Hill, no, it is in no way as easy as it looks, but it’s brilliant in snow!
Okay, lazy bones, the next part is really easy as we head south and fall off the pike towards the unremarkable Brown hill. Mind your footing here, gravity is not your friend on this descent. When we’re sick of watching our own feet, turn left and onto the broad track. This is a bumpy road but it’s very easy to follow and makes for a lovely distraction before we turn…yes, left again just after the Rivington dog hotel. This starts off steep but does get progressively easier in time. After the major climb you’ll notice a yellow marked finger post, keep to the right of this, just for fun, I’ve thrown in Two Lads! Its proper name is Crooked Edge Hill, Two Lads refers to the gigantic cairns at its summit, sometimes there are two cairns and other times there can be up to five.
Again, have a breather, take some photos and recall happier times when that big stadium you can see used to play host to a premiership team 🤦♂️ We’ll head off slightly east before joining the road which (eventually) leads us past the main television antenna. Once at the apex of the road we’ll be turning left and off up the service road before leaving the road in order to tap the o/s column at the highest point of the walk, with regret, it’s usually the muddiest too! Congratulations, we are now at the apex of the walk.
So, there is some more observing of the feet to be done once we set off through the muddy gate (you’ll see!) but believe me this is where this walk starts to get all kinds of beautiful as we drop hundreds of feet to Hampsons Pasture. We walk along a collapsed wall and cross a race track! We are now in the land of the river Yarrow and once we start to climb up to Will Narr you’ll even see a plaque dedicated to that body of water courtesy of “The friends of the Yarrow”.
By now, (September) the path should have reapaired itself from the damage inflicted upon it by the hordes of mountain bikers who frequent the area. Or, if it’s raining then we’ll be back to a bit of uphill slip and sliding, it isn’t that bad and the path we are taking is not at all hard to follow, look dead ahead and the tiny bump which seems to keep growing bit by bit is Great Hill and is our next destination summit. I say that but in all honesty we have to surmount the peaks of first Spitlers Edge then Redmonds Edge, good luck finding them as there are no ciarns or trig points and all of the summit plains look the same height from up close. Soon enough we hit the slabs. These are apparently the broken up millstone floors of, well former mills I guess. Where there are pools of water they can contain all sorts of colours and there is only the odd one which tips up and soaks your feet when you stand on it!
Throughout this walk I’d recommend that you watch your footing, not that it is so bad but nobody wants to twist an anle on this moor – we are now on the best of them – Anglezarke and we’d need to call Mountain Rescue if you injured yourself as no ambulance could ever deal with this terrain. Look! We’ve got closer to Great Hill it’s just over this stile, then up that tiny slope.
From here it’s all lovely…okay there are some muddy patches in between the ruins of Drinkwaters farm and the turn off near the trail shafts at another Brown Hill (notice how these are nearly always muddy, what does clean brown look like?). Just look at the views, someone might need to nudge me if I’m gawping at Pendle Hill…I do that! The slabs lead us away from Great Hill’s summit – wasn’t that cruciform shelter handy for avoiding the wind, also wasn’t it hard to stand up after being sat at the shelter? We head quite swiftly downhill. A number of times the path stops looking quite so engineered and y’know neat, but it is easy to follow. Stop for a few minutes at Drinkwaters farm (ruin), don’t drop any litter (anywhere, ever) but especially not here, you’ll kill the peaceful vibe this place has in spates!
And so we take the turn off left – or end up in Brinscall and I don’t think history shows anyone ever really meaning to go to Brinscall! So take the left with the dodgy looking handrail (if it is up on the day), use it at your peril because it isn’t attached to anything so, y’know, good luck! The path really drops its pretentions of being a path here, so you’ll have to either follow the millions of footprints or wait for me! Soon enough we run into a little bit of a boulder track, it’s easy to fall over here but it is just as easy to stay on your feet, just slow down a bit…I find no problem at all in doing that! We gingerly snake our way down this ever-narrowing rock path and notice that by now water has started to trickle onto the track. One last severe drop and we are on the final few metres to White Coppice Cricket Ground. I hate cricket with a passion but we will wait for a while for people to take photographs of Lancashire’s most picturesque ground. Once relaxed and refreshed we pick up the trail again and head off along quite a wide track which undulates as it passes the notorious Stronstrey Bank – I gathter it’s quite well regarded by crag rats and the like. There are lots of sheep around but these are quite easily spooked and shouldn’t bother us.
Onwards and through the gate as we cross over Moor Road, watch out for cyclists as this is an adrenalin drop of a slope and they don’t take prisoners who have dawdled in their way! Gape in awe at the sign informing you that this patch of land(?) belongs to Southport Angling Society (well we only have the Sluice and that’s devoid of all fish!), as we drop down a bit then up a bit and onto a really narrow path punctuated by the occasional weird bridges which are no more than eight inches elevated and have a welcome mudbath at either side! I don’t know who “Alice” is but she seems to have graffited herself onto every gate and stile from now until the end (and you’ll be pleased to hear that this is now less than three miles away!). We pass along a sheeptrod which can be really slippy or a breeze to walk upon depending on recent weather. And then it’s a big drop, not very far but it’ll have you watching your feet for definite!
Now we go uphill for a little stretch – more metres than miles I’m glad to say and at its summit we turn left to pass by the empty High Bullough Reservoir. Through the gate with the big heavy lead counter weight (don’t bother trying to steal it, you’ll die of either Lead poisoning or exaustion before you get two miles!) and then we are up to another major drop. Seriously, you would not want to expose bare skin to this surface which looks like a cross between tarmac and millstone grit, I imagine this would sting like a ******* so don’t fall!
We make it to the bottom of that gigantic drop and corner (what do you mean it was only about twenty feet?), and now it’s time for some lovely ambling as we gently pass the magnificent Anglezarke reservoir on our right hand side…and some interesting moss on our left – it’s absolutely lovely here. After what feels like two miles, it isn’t, we hit the road which in effect is the other side of Moor Road which we passed ages ago. Cross carefully, you’ve been warned, there’s a killer of a blind corner here. We turn right (aha!) and then cross to eventually wind our way up the Chute! This is another impressive spectacle when it’s in spate. Uphill some more and ultimately we reach the green wall which is the western slope of the Yarrow reservoir, turn right. This path is very straight forward and if we’d only done a mile or so then it would be a breeze to walk on, however, by this time we have walked close to ten and the attention is not quite what it should be, it’s hilarious to watch others stumbling but when it happens to us… The views to Winter Hill, Dovecote and Rivy Pike open up remarakably here, go on…bask, you really have earned it.
At the gate which has seen better days, turn …left, then after less than 20 metres, turn right and go through another kissing gate, then we walk carefully alongside a stream which never gets a name in any publication I’ve read. Ultimately, just as we are thinking ‘oh this is all very civil’, we are confronted with a flight of steps. They are far easier than they look and after that it really is all plain sailing all the way to the final kissing gate where the skinny amongst us won’t struggle, but the rest of us will have to take off our backpacks, it’s a tight squeeze.
And then we fall out and onto Sheephouse Lane, god willing we won’t get mowed down by passing traffic. take a left here – hey it’s far safer than going right, and we will head uphill for a few hundred feet until a side entrance can be seen on the right. Take that and it will bring us back onto the long track back to the car park.
Yep, it’s been a while, so long in fact that I simply cannot remember the last one.
In the light of the recent viral outbreaks – what? You think there’s only one? I thought it wise to do my usual thing and see if a cleaner lifestyle or just environment might yield better immunity against Covid 19. Okay, so I read an article on how houseplants can aid in health, from general well-being and mindfulness to more scientifically proven theories. Amongst the houeplant growing community the NASA research of 1993 and subsequent book in 1995 is undoubtedly, folklore. Perhaps, mis-guidedly so, in that the sheer volume of plants to square footage required is just not practical for the home or work environment. However, that does not mean that we can’t borrow from the studies . Indeed we don’t actually want totally clean air for one very startlingly obvious reason:
It would reduce the efficiency of our immunity systems and ultimately we’d go the way of the martians from H.G. Wells’ – War of the Worlds. Yes I know the book is a work of fiction but it has science at its heart.
Anyway, now that I’ve finished being pseudo-pedantic, the obvious place to me to ‘green up’ was my desk at work – seeing as I spend most time awake there and (sorry guys) there are statistically more pathogens around for me to absorb! It’s no secret that I like a good plant. Sadly, it’s no secret that I’m not so adept at keeping the poor buggers alive and in the last year have lost a fair few from my desk (owing to dehydrating and conversely over-hydrating), even now an unknown variety of Crassula is fighting for its life (c’mon Crassie, keep on in there!). But I have to try, my mother did have green fingers – I just don’t seem to have inherrited them and I am more of learn by experience kind of guy as far as all things horticultural are concerned.
Prior to today I had a desktop collection of:
One Ficus Benjamina (in a 3″ pot)
One Ficus Benjamina being trained as a bonsai
Two Spider plants that were gifted to me by family
A lemon and lime Dracaena (Dracaena fragrans) again this is not doing so well.
A pretty poorly looking Christmas Cactus
An Aldi Easter cactus which rewarded me with one flower…which promptly fell off!
A Peperomia Obtusifolia which always looks like it’s struggling but has this year grown two new leaves (alas, one died back)
A Calathea Rufibarba with leaves which look desert-touched, even though the soil is always moist!
One Fiddle-leaved fig that did look really poorly but has now grown two big leaves and is looking happier
A Fittonia (unknown variety) which was looking great until dehydrating here at Christmas and now looks like it is battling at best!
A lovely Ficus Elastica which is growing really slowly but looks okay at the moment
A weird air-plant
A Peace lily which has been such a wilting snowflake but does get a really nice white flower
One Dracaena deremensis Warneckii (yeah, we’re gonna need a common name for that some time soon!)
A Madagascar Dracaena which seems to think it’s a type of grass as it will not grow in the vertical plane!
As well as other plants taking over our home (the golden Pothos is not so golden, yet it is amazing).
And that’s it…until you factor in this morning’s additions:
Phlebosia – species as of yet not known, I’ve only just got it and it will take a while finding out. This was something of an impulse buy from Tesco for £2.50.I won’t lie, I did forget that some fern plant roots can end up looking downright creepy and what one botanist refers to as “Rabbit’s Foot” can look a lot more like “Tarantula’s Leg”. This little star already has a couple of furry apendages sprouting out of the soil, so we’ll just have to see what it transforms into and whether or not this is going to freak out me and the entire office! Adiantum – one of 250 known varieties referred to as “Maidenhair Fern” and isn’t she a super looking little bundle of joy? This was only £2.50 from Tesco. I look at her and think ‘awww, isn’t she pretty?’ These plants have something of a reputation of being divas – well she’s gonna fit right in next that always-looking near death Calathea Rufibarba then! But it appears that the reputation they have is not earned and as long as the soil is always a bit on the moist side and the light is alright (it is, one thing we do get right here is the light is nice and ubiquitous!) then she should thrive away…not too fast I hope as I only have limited desk room and to be totally fair-minded, it is supposed to be an office and not my own personal fernary! But wouldn’t that be great?
Anyway, one last purchase to feature and it is a weird sounding one.Polystichum Biaristatum for £5.00 from Morrisons. Yes, I’ve never heard of them either but a common name for it is Upright Shield -Fern, which returns no practical results at all from Google . It was with a ceramic pot which I have inadvertantly left in the car! This appears to be something of a newcomer to the houseplant world as there are just not many sites featuring it, I may have to contact Summer Rayne Oakes about this as what she doesn’t know about plants is not worth knowing!
And so that’s it for this minor update. On my next Saturday when I am here I may well take photos of all of the plants individually, plus some other other bigger ones that we have here, it’s all getting a bit more green and well that in itself gives the illusion of being happier and healthier. For those of you who are interested here are some links to give more in-depth details of NASA’s 1993 findings:
I had an entire section on here entitled “The Move”. This was a names-amended narrative on our house-move, with a bit of humour thrown in. I’ve taken this down, I might think I’m funny, others may just be a tad offended, and yet others have access to lawyers at discount prices…
So, I have to concentrate on what I can alter / amend / create in my life. That’s this blog folks…and its sister. You didn’t know it had a sister? Well, I guess I can keep secrets after all. (Or not!)
It isn’t ready yet so I’ll save you a wasted journey.
Wow you’re very direct today! Okay so this is an itch which got scratched, then started to bleed, then morphed into another itch, which (at the moment) looks very much like the previous itch. So now you’re sat at your desk, or on the bus, (if you’re driving then put the damn phone down, pillock!) scratching away at the itch I’ve just NLP’d onto you and at the same time wondering just wtf this guy is banging on about! Linked-in, to be honest I still perceive it as another arrow in the stalker’s quiver!
On LI you can, if you so desire, endorse people. That’s kinda nice isn’t it? You can say that you went to uni with this person who was such a hard worker and was meticulous and so on…Or you can say that when Sandra Smith worked at your company customer service was at an all-time high and you rue the day you let her get away for a meagre 10% pay rise. Like I say, that’s nice.
However, not quite so nice is meeting people at a sales event or conference, harvesting their name and email address and then tracking them down on LI purely for the sake of asking them to endorse you…or just as bad, promising you that they’ll endorse you if you do the same back. That’s kinda manipulative, and that’s coming from someone who can push the envelope on the Machiavellianism scale!
“So this is my tape I’m sending you…” sorry, got all Eminem then! So, this is my response (actually this is referrenced on my LI profile), essentially a website (WordPress-based) which will be geared towards you being you, not being driven by what others will think or say about you, or promise to say about you. Of course you have to take the orientation of the author into account, (I mean walking,not some kind of Shetland Ponies in high-heels obsession). I’m aiming to make this into a challenge-walk, sign-up portal, with actual information about what I’m attempting to organise and why. Examples are: Gathering a bunch of people together in order to complete the Yorkshire Three Peaks – for charity, or doing the Anglezarke Amble (the big route) and further afield, walks like the Helm Wind walk or even the Lake District 10 which I imagine is going to be incredibly hard!
In other news. I really should start to get into a more healthy shape. As such I am going carb-min and cutting out a large chunk of the simple carbs that I would normally cram-in from pies and take-a-ways and even the odd (daily) muffin, I may still have one of those per week – surely that won’t kill me? The stress over the flat sale might not necessarily have turned me into an alcoholic…but I think they’d let me into their parties! Crikey what fun parties they’d be! But it’s fair to say that I have knocked back a fiar bit of booze this year and it’s only…Marchuary (hic). I am aiming to just have one bottle of wine per weekend. History has highlighted to me that I don’t sleep well on Sunday nights, throw wine into the mix and that sleep is an idea, a great but distant dream, spot the ironic twist there! Obviously then the wiser path would be to open a bottle on Friday night- ‘cos y’know watching Gogglebox completely sober is just pointless, then save the other half a bottle until Saturday evening, when let’s be honest you need some help to get through the dreadful t.v. schedule!
Already this year I’ve been to the gym five times, I even went knowing that it would be open! I do need to work much harder on turning that number into those numbers but now is not the time to be beating myself up about that! We’ll see how that pans out but I would be very happy to make three visits per week the norm.
I’ve decided to pick-up where I left off with Duolingo. It had me down as being fluent in both Spanish and Italian at one time, now for some reason I’m just an intermediate in Spanish, ¿Por que? ¡Lo siento, pero no se! It’s not widely known on the web, ‘cos I’m British and traditionally we don’t excel at learning new languages, that I am something of a polyglot . I’m one of those people who can hear languages and start to pick them up. It’s not a very rare thing, my brother-in-law has the same thing. I’d like to be able to hold an in-depth conversation with a Spanish or Italian (or Romanian) and discuss more than the weather, so I’ll be spending some quality time with the earphones on then immersing myself in either Spanish, Italian and the odd bout of Polish – just because!
Whilst I’m not trying to make this post sound like ‘see what I can do’ bragging blog – that does sound kinda catchy, dunnit, I have always harboured a desire to write a book …or five! the first one that I ever started, had a good theme but I kind of wandered so far away from the original idea that I just burried in until later…and took the title “Something Inside” with me. It was the next one “The Calling” which, after close to thirty years, has been the one to which I always return, I think I’ve added-to and edited-from this enough times to have rewritten the thing from start to finish at least twice. However, I do plan on giving this a final push towards publishing at some point in the next 12-months! My good friend Becky has already read this (cos y’know you ask someone to read it and they just don’t ahem Cerys, ahem Joanna, ahem Hannah!) and didn’t come in to work pointing a finger at me and suggesting I try another medium (say for example, interpretive dance) so maybe…But, a recent encounter (or two) with a certain feisty person has left in me the desire to rewrite another one from the past: The Dark Places (working title, cos y’know, it’s pants!). And no, I am not going to do anything nasty to name withheld…well apart from make her one of two adopted twins who starts to have gory visions of a crazed serial killer…I’ve said too much!
So, a little bit to be getting on with then…ciao, adios, noroc, por ahora!
Warning, this post does contain emphatic / robust language. If you’re easily offended I’d **** off now if I were you!
Oh how I hate to refer to this as the shorter route, as it is, in my opinion, in no way less challenging than the longer route, just less milage and ‘shorter’ kind of demeans this!
If there are worse kept secrets than my desire to complete the West Lancs hosted Anglezarke Amble each year, then I don’t want to know them! I bang on about this event incessantly so when the time came to actually take part in this year’s epic slog, solo, I was chomping at the bit (there is no verb – to champ so will everyone please stop saying otherwise). Besides a damn good walk in very muddy country this would give me a chance to have a minor respite away from the house-moving saga which seems set to last until April at least (although which April I’m not sure!).
So, as you might expect, I was at the start (08:00) by 07:25 as I am just not a last minute type of person (oh how I wish this was different). Registrations complete, I was back outside and ready for the off by 07:38 and decided all I could do was loiter. 08:00 arrived and we all headed north…well kind of north. I don’t like being in mass walks when stiles and gates are factored in so I kind of made my own way, appending some of the route so as to avoid getting stuck behind / being a burden, on the last stepped section leading up to Rivington Pike. In total this would have added around a five-hundred feet to the route but that’s not really salient. I did get chatting to someone on route who informed me that there was no requirement to actually go to the top of the pike, as that’s what the runners do, skip it altogether. Well for me, the Amble just isn’t the Amble without touching the tower atop the pike, hmph!
Next came the (I always feel) uneasy descent passing Brown Hill and onto Belmont Road before turning off to head up Crooked Edge Hill, often referred to as “Two Lads”…these were the two huge stone cairns at the top of the hill, now there is one enormous one…and about three to seven children cairns depenedent on what time of year one ascends the summit of this ‘little toughie” of a hill. The route detours before CEH’s summit to a rather boggy and muddy track which then leads to Winter Hill – the road. Yes folks, not only have ‘they’ named a hill Winter Hill, but also the TV station antenna is known as ‘Winter Hill’ and so is the road up to it! It was around this time, nearly close to ten past nine when I was passed on the road by…mostly everyone to be honest. On long walks such as this, I don’t get my second wind until waaaaayyyyy after everyone else gets theirs! The group I remember the most was the “Yellow Army” who appeared to be a mostly female (I mean most of them were ladies, not they were all transitioning!) group adorned in the most illuminated yellow tops that I’ve ever seen, honestly, you could not lose these people in fog…especially going off the noise they were summoning! All good spirits…the cheerful sods!
So now, having passed by my first checkpoint (Winter Hill) we began the long drop down the north-east face of Winter hill. It’s a good enough path, some mud but otherwise okay, but the type of route that I like to do on my own as there are parts where I’d have preferred to take my foot off the methaphorical gas pedal. There is no ambling around on the Amble and the added pressure of not wanting to hold others up sometimes does drag one’s spirits down a tad! I did nearly fall over on two occasions but I thought that I would save the genuine falls until later in the walk! The crossing of Belmont Road (A675) is always something to focus one’s concentration as the cars passing by are doing at least 50 mph. Next step was my least favoured part of the entire route: Green Bastard Hill!
You won’t find Green Hill (this one) on ordnance survey maps. It really is not that relevant to most people except for the ones who decided at some point to stick a farm on it named…Greenhill Farm. After one has summounted the rather high stile one descends into lots and lots and lots of mud…and the odd occasional cow pat! I hate this part of the route as it is so CROW – a path in theory as opposed to a real one! I ended up walking sideways down moss and reeds as the main trampled path – where the other 300+ people in the last twenty minutes had been, resembled one slippery cattle wade. I hate this part of the route. Another slip and slide as we head towards an unnamed stream and then it was up a steep and slippery climb to Egerton Road and then onto checkpoint two (Belmont) – I had made it to the cut-off point with a good twenty five minutes to spare! But, I still hate that part of the route!
By this time I had a right old case of jelly legs and decided to take on some carbs in the form of a SIS energy gel, which did the trick, and prompted a comment from someone “time for a sis already eh?”. Well yeah!
The next section would mark the departure from the main ‘long’ route but first I had the first half of Longworth Moor with which to contend. Longworth Moor, in its entirity is sodding wet! By now, lots of people were coming together – there are drier ways of making it to this point of the landscape, via cheating (I know because I had considered it) and by now most of us muddy ones were looking a bit caked in it around the shin area! Nevertheless it was with an enormous deal of delight that I spied the sign on the nearing horizon which indicated “Short and Long”. I’m 5’6″ so I went for short! Charley’s pole is actually not a pole, there is a sign there, I think it’s owned by the national trust or even ordnance survey, if it is owned by Charley” then nobody knows who he is / was / will be. All the same, it was a fantastic feeling to have made it six miles into the route, safe in the knowledge of:
It all gets quite a lot easier for a good few miles from here on in.
It all gets quite a lot quieter (sorry Yellow Army) and you get to look forward most of the time (instead of over your shoulder to look out for would be overtakers).
It’s a fair bit drier, but there is still standing water so let’s not get carried away, (carpet slippers it is not!).
There are no two ways about it, the less time that you spend walking next to Turton Heights the better, it’s a shithole!
So, we’re on Catherine Edge – that’s a place not a person (apparently there is only me in the entire world who finds that funny!). And although there is a fair bit of water I am ecstatic (or as happy as us reserved Ainsworth / Sandgrounder types get) to be able to go at my own pace…and that I’m able to relax. The views of neighbouring hills (Spitlers Edge, Redmonds Edge and a distant peek at Great Hill) lift my spirit, this is country walking. Occasionally I met with other none-Amblers who are walking towards me. All is well. It isn’t until gone eleven a.m. that I come across the farm which I refer to as Big dog farm. Aptly named as they have a Caucasian Shepherd Dog here which is the size of a semi-detached house! I noticed they have now adopted two Tibetan Mastifs which does make me wonder what the hell they are protecting? I consider taking a photo of Big Dog but he barks and I can almost feel my phone being pulled out of my hand each time the leviathan breathes in! Big dog is a handsome dog, I just think he could kill you in a heartbeat if he so desired!
After a lovely eon I arrived at the gate whereby for some reason, those who designed the route thought it might be fun to send us up a slope then down the other side. I’m happy enough to do this and just as happy to direct the group of three women walkers in front of me (who are just about to venture on to Crooksfield Road for no reason). To open the gate requires a doctoral thesis to be submitted or a pint of unicorn blood, a kick also works! The gradient is quite quickly reached but does leave me puffing and panting for a while and this impacts upon my ability to answer the ladies next question on how to progress? I try telling them that it’s just a question of through the gate, walk along the road then turn right to get to Slipper Lowe but, not for the first time, I cannot recall what Slipper Lowe is called and can only think of Teanlowe – which was a Burtons pie shop in Pulton-le-Fylde! So we all cross the road then spend ten minutes descending only to re-ascend the slope and ultimately ‘luck-into’ the checkpoint (Slipper Lowe every body, if you see me next year for the love of God tell me it’s called Slipper Lowe).
At last I am relieved to use the Nescafé cup that I’ve been seemingly carrying pointlessly for the last ten miles! I even recognise the odd face or two – a gorgeous girl from the start – believe me, you’d recognise her too as her face is nothing short of beautiful, even her partner is a bit of a babe…then I remember, I need carbs and all of a sudden, everyone appears normal again! Finally, I am at a place where I am able to sit down. I text Chris to let her know my progress, I’ve abandoned way before now on two occasions and her encouraging responses are all that I need to finish my drink and set off again. I try to keep up with the three women – they are about to take a wrong turning and head off towards Blackburn, then again near the path to Hollinshead Hall they’re doing the same thing. Walkers’ curse I call it, the overwhelming desire to turn left before one needs to do so. Honestly, if it was not for me they would have done some serious milage. Thankfully, I then run into walking friends Sue and Karl and some other woman to whom I am not introduced. This is brilliant as I hadv’t seen them for almost a year and I could quite easily spend the next hour just catching up. Ultimately it’s Sue who declares that they don’t want to hold me up, which is kind and thoughtful and I dejectedly make my way towards the A675 again, Great Hill is waiting for me, only me, he has it in for me today! Great Hill is a whaleback, all whaleback hills are male!
It takes me virtuallty no time at all to get to the road. Unlike previously when Mark and I completed, we were so far behind that we only ever saw stragglers. Today i got to engage with the faster of those doing the longer route, you’d think this would make me take a down-spiral in mood…
Great Hill’s path is sticky and wet and muddy and energy zapping in the extreme. Many people overtake me and I do not care. Gorgeous and her other half pass me by whilst I am kneeling on the floor having mis-timed a jump over a minor mud-stream. We exchange comments about me admiring the view, for the next thirty minutes or so and she counters that she knows just how I feel. She must be hiding it well then as they both look like they have just stepped out of their car! In the grand scheme of all things, Great Hill is an easy, 1,250′ little hill. On the Amble day, it’s a complete and utter git (and that’s being diplomatic). The gradient just seems to rise severely very near to the top so that what you think is a summit is in fact an outlying peat hag! Karl and Sue had warned me (because they’d already been here today) that the summit was on the blustery side today, I am glad of it. The breeze is soothing and I am over-joyed to have a few solitary seconds at the top to think and bask in the knowledge that it is all downhill for a good few miles from here.
But these are not just any miles, these are Great Hill miles and you’ve always got to be aware of the next step on Great Hill. I don’t fall, not even stumble (unlike the last time a fortnight earlier) and I fondly look forward to grabbing another few moments of rest at Drinkwaters Farm ruins, this has become my place. Soon enough I start off again, feeling better after more gel and water and more confident. It even appears to me that my stride is increasing. I always take my time with the last few steps down Great Hill, as they are bloody steep! Believe me, going up this way is cause for a sanity check! All the same I must look far different from how I feel. At the White Coppice checkpoint (where I fell over on my first ever Amble) I’m told that I don’t look like I’m enjoying myself…I counter that it is just because I’d heard this was the place to get some new knees, and ankles and hips… Instead I get a coffee and a surprise, I’ve caught up to the gorgeous couple!
My drink goes cold before I have a chance to drink it, the water from which it was made must have been quite cool by now. So I empty my mug as quickly as possible, no desire to cherish every drop – it’s nearly stone colde. I set off again. Before long I have caught up to the beautiful people again and although I had intended to slow down and have a chat…I speed up! I can almost hear them saying, “that was a bit ignorant”. But that’s the voices in my head, my personal, overly-self-aware demons trying to bring me down, I won’t let them, I’m on a mission. I want to finish this route before three o’clock, even though I have forecast four p.m. to Karl and Sue and anonymous woman. The rest of this route is easy, I practised well just two weeks ago, just a couple of muddy sections to go.
Over Moor Road I go and off to a minor uphill section, there is more mud than I remember from my last outing here, keep going, just be careful of each step, I have no wish to fall- over here, or anywhere for that matter. More people are on route now but these do not have the crazed look of Amblers in flight, they take their time, admire the scenery, don’t give way quite as easily. I’m now on the sheep-trod which proved so interesting two weeks ago, but I learned my lesson then and leave the comfort of the path that I know will turn in to one slippery little fucker in the next hundred metres, I’m on the slope of the hill itself, going horizontally. But no matter how ridiculous my plan looks in practice – it works. After I pass the mega-puddle I rejoin the sheep-trod and it’s over the next bridge and through the gate. Now its the first major downhill section with which I have to contend. Just a short drop of less than two hundred lateral metres and I practice my skill at using the moss-covered oaks and sycamores for support. It works wonderfully, not even any wormy hitchhikers like last time, I feel all kinds of Bear-Grillsish! I pass a couple, the man is an awesome size, must be close to seven-feet tall, we exchange greetings, they are going too slow, no sense of urgency, they are not Amblers.
At High Bullough reservoir I take a few seconds respite, it’s not as stunning as the first few times that I have passed it. the reservoir has been drained – there is an information board which everyone seems to take turns in reading, I’ve read it before, crack on! And now I’m making progress along the side of the ressie that was. I must be hitting four miles per hour now, for me, in my current cuddly condition, that’s awesome! Next step the gigantic downhill corner and the scenery takes a change for the beautiful as the Anglezarke Reservoir comes into view, it’s spectacular, it says home to me. I don’t have time to admire the moss-scape on my left but the knowledge that it is there lifts my spirits even higher. A couple of tall, tall female runners pass me, good on ’em! For the first time, I believe that I am going to get back to the registration church hall for 15:15, maybe even earlier. I pick up speed once more but still keep looking to my right and basking in the reflective tranquil beauty of the Anglezarke reservoir, it’s like I’m doing this in her honour, all bodies of water are female!
And now I’m at the far end of the reservoir, I cross the road early so as to avoid crossing on the deadly hairpin bend. All I’m looking at now is the tarmac (or whatever road surface it is) dead ahead of me which is festooned with ample amounts of horse manure, I believe that will not only stink to high heaven once its crust is penetrated, it’ll be slippery as hell and today – I’m all about avoiding the slippy! Moments pass, the memories of my first Amble flood my mind, it was dusk when I traversed this road then, now it’s golden sunshine. My coat is giving me more heat than I could possibly ever need but at some point soon I’m going to take that off, and it’ll be awesome! I ascend the rough path at the side of the Yarrow water chute and believe that I’m in my last two miles. I want to spend a minute or so simply drinking in the scenery, it’s some time since I last saw the chute in spate and it’s truly an impressive sight! Two more slopes to go! At the apex of the next slope lies the great green wall of the Yarrow reservoir.
I’m on the sometimes rough, sometimes cobbled path heading south. I have no competition, no other walkers are near me to spur me on, it’s all too easy to slow down and appreciate the day. I have to be tough on myself and think back to past triumphs – and failures. Scafell Pike, that was one hard son of a bitch, my legs ached for ages after that, the failure of last summer’s Y3P and how this walk, today, will be an excellent way to build more confidence for that arduous but wonderful task which lies in wait for me. The songs going through my head are again the theme music from Sonic the Hedgehog and I have no objection to this…apart from it’s pushed Billie Eilish’s “Everything I wanted” to the back burner, I can listen to that on the way home. And now I’m at the gate at the southern most tip of the Yarrow. Anyone who uses the kissing gate here has more time than they deserve – through the gap in the wall, you could get a panda through that, I’d love to see that to be fair! A sharp left turn, downhill and I almost bump into a family who know what I am, what I’m doing…
“Not far to go now, almost there” reports the patriarch. He knows I’m an Ambler and I smile, it’s like I’ve lost all of my verbal social skills.
Around a corner and through the millionth kissing gate, honestly, if you did kiss at each of these; you’d be well dehydrated by now! And now I’m recalling the Great Galleymore’s 2013 Anglezarke Amble (which got me in to this thing originally) and how he advises to watch your footing here for all of the divets! Walking back alongside the Dean Brook and I’m feeling on top of the world…okay, my hands are a bit numb? My feet are hot, my upper body feels like it’s been in a sauna for way too long and my thighs are chafing like a, like a…like two thighs which are chafing I suppose. And there are the steps to lead up to the paddock. I can hear voices, hurried, female voices behind me, it’s the bloody Yellow Army again, they’ve caught me up! I now feel compelled to take the last few steps a lot quicker. I pause at the top of the steps if only to ask the seemingly head motivator of the Yellow Army about their campaign – mission statesment – just what they are and what are they doing! She’s really positive (like a running version of an 80’s Bonnie Langford – but nicer looking) and she fills me in on what a great day this is. Even better she assumes I’ve done the 24-miler like they all have! I’m just too honest to let that go.
Twenty seconds or so later and they fly off into the distance with an illegal amount of energy still residual! I’m practically walking sidewards by now owing to the chafing thighs. But we are so close to the finish now that I can swear I can hear voices – real voices of people laughing and joking, regailing stories of the day. I’m forced to remove my backpack as we can both get through this last kissing gate – just not attached to one-another. Now I’m on the road, I turn right and in front of me lies the tiny entrance to the church hall, and once inside (for a change) you can keep your filthy boots on as you register your finishing time:
six hours and fifty-two minutes!
I never had anything to eat back at the hall, few and far between are the times when I can consume anything after a good walk, and how good this walk had been! I sipped my coffee, texted Chris my finishing time and a photo of my certificate and simply basked in the encapsulating joy of having completed the Anglezarke Amble again. Yes, I do moan a lot when my backpack is trying to push me to a muddy death when dropping off Great Hill. Yes I probably did look a real dick when I fell to my knees on the way up the bugger, I just don’t care. These are experiences, future anecdotes things you just don’t get playing Candy Crush Saga at home on the warm and dry sofa! I simply had to do this walk, to build momentum for what is turning out to be a challenging year on personal, work and home fronts. There’s no doubt that this episode of my walking life will put me in better position to complete September’s Yorkshire three peaks, it’ll help me do April’s Sefton Coastal Path walk too! But it’s more than that, success breeds success (and how quickly I am learning to hate typing that word!), any kind of success gives us the positive mindset to strive for more, we even begin to welcome the odd obstacle and take the tougher way! I’ve quoted him before but the afore mentioned Mr Gallimore is perfectly right when he describes the Anglezarke Amble as “Depicted as probably the hardest challenge on Planet Earth.” – I guess it kind of depends on just who is doing the depicting! To me, this is every bit as hard as the Yorkshire Three Peaks without the lofty summits and glory. With the Amble you get caked in mud – even if you’re doing it right. These days, doing the Y3P is a largely dry affair now that the ‘Mosses’ have been bypassed. I want to do the twenty-four miles version next year, do it proper! I’ll probably do it unaccompanied, there is less pressure that way and as I have seen today, less chance of someone getting you to turn left before you have to!
Songs of the walk: Billie Elilish – Everything I wanted, Joanne Koziel and Kris Nahony – I need to forget, themes from Sonic the Hedgehog: Greenhill and Marble zones.
07:24 and the Upper Rivington Reservoir looks stunning.
The pike always looks at its best when you have the least amount of time to appreciate it!
See the ants to the centre top? They're Amblers and they are all going to catch up to me.
After the long gentle climb we are cast down the north-eastern face of Winter hill like so many ants!
Normally, I go left here in order to sink into the mud next to Winter Hill's trig point.
Doesn't Abbey Village look lovely from here?
Ha poor fools, you're heading towards the crap fest that is Turton Heights...with wet feet!
Here in starts the break-off shorter route.
The king of the West Pennines, Winter hill looms majestically as seen from Catherine Edge.
Views of the Edges across Belmont Reservoir
Don't call me Katy...this is Catherine Edge!
I believe this is one of the Darwen Hill sumiits known as White Hill.
The Amble in an image.
I congratulate myself on not doing the long route given that it encapsulates Darwen Hill (distance).
I can't see any further than Bull Hill from here today.
The summit of Great Hill
A backwards look at Great Hill on route to White Coppice.