TomTom tells me total mileage last week after 4 runs was 16.77 with 1,636ft of ascent. Considering my sneezes, snuffles and lack of sleep that can't be too bad. I stayed low on Tuesday due to the cold, horrendous wind buffeting my hilltop cottage and did a few reps round the local cemetery. Matt, a personal trainer was there, sans client, doing a personal work-out that mainly involved running backwards and sideways between the graves!
|Back in my warm den after Tuesday's blustery run |
(Click to enlarge pictures)
The weather quietened down by Thursday but it was a dreich, gloomy sort of morning as I trundled up Castle Hill a little later than usual to find I had brief company in the form of another runner. Then the local poacher with his two whippets. Then a keen walker from the village who's been walking the same 5 mile circuit round Farnley for so long I'm surprised he hasn't worn a trench. First words from each of them was "I haven't seen you for a while", and I thought no, that's because you haven't been getting up here early enough.
|Setting off to Grassington|
Saturday's run with my wonderful partner was a 4¾ mile circuit to Grassington, Linton Falls and back along the riverbank.
With the onset of autumn we had high hopes of enjoying a riot of russet and gold tints, mainly among horse chestnuts lining the River Wharfe.
|Some of the locals|
After recent deluges the Wharfe was almost bursting it's banks and created a fine spectacle as it cascaded over the rocks at Linton falls, washing the feet of adjacent houses as it roared past.
|Houses by Linton falls|
"And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on a rock" (Matthew 7:25)
Nevertheless, I'm not sure I'd like to live in any of those properties though I guess they must already have stood the test of time.
|Looking up-river to the weirs|
We lingered on the bridge for quite some time, fascinated by the noise and torrents of water flowing beneath us, conditions beloved by white water canoeists whom we've seen there in the past.
|Changing colours along the riverbank|
We dragged ourselves away and spurted off towards Hebden for after an earlier 45 mile commute from Almondbury we were getting a little behind time. Pork pie time, that is.
|Pleasant running under the chestnuts.|
The autumn tints aren't quite at their best yet, but they're getting there and I've no doubt we'll have many more colourful runs before the leaves fall.
|Run wide, run deep...|
We were soon back to Hebden Suspension Bridge which I climbed on to for a last shot of the river looking upstream, a view that never fails to impress.
|Uphill to warm up|
Sunday dawned bright and sunny but bitterly cold, the coldest day of autumn, so far, with a keen white frost glittering the landscape. We'd a late breakfast then amused ourselves with The I's cryptic crossword until things warmed up a little.
|Still trying to get warm...|
It was 11 o'clock by the time we closed the door and set off running up the ghyll towards Cupola Corner. We'd planned a six mile route round Yarnbury, Moor Lane and Tinker Lane before dropping back to Hebden.
|Is this high enough?|
But 'best laid plans of mice and men gang aft awry' according to old Rabby Burns, and they certainly did for us in that freezing wind.
|Into the last mile|
We decided to cut it short and head for home, as fast as we could, down into the partial shelter of the ghyll, back to a warm stove, the smell of burning peat and some badly needed nourishment.
How many calories are there in a pork pie?