Seeing things.....

      My old legs churned out a total of 21 miles last week but, to be honest, in only 16 of them was I actually running. On three mornings, long before sunrise, I ran a 4 mile circuit over and around Castle Hill. Maybe I was hallucinating, or not quite awake, but I'd a funny experience on Friday.

Friday's dawn run - along the ghost path    (Click pictures to enlarge)

As I struggled steeply upwards a few yards from the perimeter path I glanced up and saw a man in a long grey coat walking along in the breaking light. Seconds later he'd completely vanished!

Some of my dawn friends

Sunday was glorious. We awoke to a cloudless sky that pleased my wonderful partner as she was on Yorkshire Dales National Park duty patrolling an area around Mossdale and Capplestone Gate.

I discovered a little lochan.....

        I'd considered going for a short run before lunch, then a bumbly walk in the afternoon. Instead I stuck a Brunch Bar in my bumbag and set off for five hours of walking, running and sunbathing, mainly out of sight, high on Grassington Moor.  

....ran past this shake-hole where rabbits live - with flowers by their door

Deviating from main tracks I discovered little lochans and remains of old buildings I'd never seen before, and didn't know existed.

through wheatear country

What I was really looking for was somewhere sheltered from the arctic wind, somewhere I could strip down to shorts and vest to expose a little more flesh to that healing sunshine. I found a grassy hollow and spent a couple of hours wallowing in ultra violet warmth.  But only my face changed colour, a not very nice shade of red with white rings round both eyes where my sunglasses had rested!

On the way home

      Occasional voices broke my reverie, and a couple went by on horseback, but I was well hidden and unlikely to suffer any human intrusion. Above me the wind rustled through the heather. Curlews were calling in the distance, a startled grouse went kekking across the skyline and a meadow pipit paid me a visit. Maybe I was laid too close to her nest?

past a wee cave - a secret way to sneak under the road

Time to go, but as I stepped from my cosy hollow it was like being plunged into a freezer. I retreated from the icy blast to don tracksters and a jacket before beginning my run for home.

and across the stepping stones bound for home

From 1,500ft it was nearly all downhill, keeping in the shelter of a long wall to drop into the ghyll - where bright wheatears have nearly all returned to their summer homes - and back to the car lined village street. A good day to end a rather good week.
Now then, roll on tomorrow and let me get back to that ghost.....

Lastly, for anyone interested in my 'Examiner' interview, here's the link