A bad tummy, Canadians, Penyghent and a load of bull......

It's been a frustrating week.  I wont go into details other than to say that certain bodily malfunctions prevented me from doing all I'd have liked to do.  Starting a week's course of Metronidazole (antibiotics) I'd been advised against strenuous exercise and told to take things easy.  

As if I could!

Struggling over Castle Hill  (Click pictures to enlarge)

Runs were limited to just two, each of 4 miles, both of which ended in disaster, not to say a certain amount of embarrassment.  It could be some time before I don trail shoes again.

Astilbe?  

A strange plant appeared in my garden which I'm told is called Astilbe.  I've no idea how it got there for I certainly never planted it.

Long tailed tit at the feeders

I'd like to think it's a present from the birds I feed each day, a seed stolen from someone's garden and conveniently dropped into a shady corner of mine they perhaps thought looked a little bare.

Yours truly and David with his auntie Sheila

We'd company at the weekend, all the way from Canada, and felt obliged to show them some of our wonderful Yorkshire countryside during their three day stay.

Our route over Penyghent

 My wonderful partner's nephew, David, had expressed a desire to visit Penyghent again, a hill he'd climbed  on a previous trip to England in 2004 whilst I was taking part in a fell race over it.  

Penyghent

An excellent idea, we thought, for on a clear day we'll see a huge chunk of Yorkshire from its 2,277ft summit, and that should be enough!  We drove to Horton-in-Ribblesdale to find it bulging with people and cars.  Hundreds were taking part in a sponsored walk over Yorkshire's three peaks of Penyghent, Whernside and Ingleborough to raise money for British Heart Foundation.
So we'd plenty of company.

Kim, going strong in the initial stages

David's partner, Kim, had never tackled a hill of such magnitude before so it was a baptism of fire for her. But she's young and fit so it posed no problem.  Coming from a metropolis like Ottawa she was fascinated by our Yorkshire countryside with all its free range cattle and sheep of which she took endless photographs.

Onwards and upwards

The day had dawned clear and sunny but not too warm, so excellent conditions for our 6 mile jaunt.  Swallows flitted around Brackenbottom.  Lots of  Wild mountain thyme inspired a verse or two of that beautiful song made famous by The Corries.  I've sung it scores of times on climbing meets and I'd love to think my mountaineering friends will raise their voices and sing it at my final curtain.
If they haven't all gone before me!

Up the rocky nose

To borrow a phrase from Miles Kington , "C'est un bleedin' doddle" is how I'd describe Penyghent's rocky nose, the hill's main obstacle where hands as well as feet are required for the ascent.

Kim enjoying herself on the steep bit

 It was soon over and smiling faces were happily making their way to the Trig point at the summit.

All smiles at the Trig Point

After the obligatory photograph we relaxed behind a wall, out of the wind, to refuel with sandwiches and juice before the easy downhill trek back to Horton village.

Relaxing before the descent

Charity walkers had all gone, trundling off towards Whernside and mighty Ingleborough, another 21 miles of energy sapping terrain. Some were already struggling and it's doubtful whether they'd complete the circuit in time to collect their medals by the 7pm finish.

An easy stroll down

There was no cut-off time for us.  We strolled leisurely along, our Canadian friends intrigued by dry stone walls, verdant limestone landscapes, the deep depression of Hunt Pot, extensive views - and a prime bull that posed to have its picture taken.

Hey, don't mess with me......

 It was a great day.  

Next time they honour us with a visit, we'll maybe take them over all three?

Higher Moor - 2017

From Menorca's tortoises and nightingales, Crantock enriched our morning runs with outpourings of larksong along paths lined with with bright orchids, wild thyme and trefoil.

We've arrived    (Click pictures to enlarge)

We were camped for a couple of weeks at Higher Moor, a superb site that gives easy access to flower decked Cubert Common, a grassy undulating coast path and the fine, lesser known beach of Polly Joke.

Running the coast path round Polly Joke

As over most of the UK the first week was a scorcher and it seemed strange to have driven 364 miles from our homes in Yorkshire to sit in the shade!

Path across the Common

As has become the norm nowadays our morning runs were all pre-breakfast, most of them along a 4 mile route past Polly Joke, round the coast path with its crashing seascapes, past The Chick (an island where seals congregate on the rocks), past Holywell Bay then back over the Common, by the side of a golf course and up to a tumulus ready for a fast downhill sweep to the finish.

Running happy - past Holywell Bay

We ran a total of 33 miles, considerably less than the 49 we ran on our last visit. I blamed the weather, either too hot or too wet.  Nothing to do with Anno Domini.

Seals at The Chick

Seals were only on the rocks at low tide which had to co-incide with our running times in order to see them.  This only happened on three occasions though they could be seen swimming in the water at other times.  One morning they actually sang to me as I ran past.

Cooling off at Polly Joke

On hot days we'd potter down to Polly Joke to brave the swell and breaking waves as the tide swept in over the warm sand.  Most refreshing. In the searing heat we were dry almost before we'd walked back to the spot on the beach where we'd left our belongings.

Drying off....

At the sun's zenith it was difficult to find any shade back at camp but we found a partially sheltered corner where a tiny stream tinkled past under overhanging trees.  Thrushes sang, pigeons croo-crooed while chaffinches and robins added their own minor accompaniments to the wild music.

Our cheeky blackbird

A friendly blackbird flitted around too, particularly when it sensed there might be something to eat!

Tawny owl chicks saying Hello

One day our lunch was interrupted as we became aware of two fluffy tawny owl chicks observing us from a branch only yards away.  They seemed glad of our company and we spent much of the afternoon gazing at each other.

Ubiquitous pyramid orchids all over the Common

Pyramid orchids were flowering in numerous places on the common and became more and more abundant as time went by.

Rarer marsh orchids

 Larger marsh orchids, common enough on previous occasions, were more difficult to find this year but we managed to locate one or two hiding in the longer grasses.

Wild day at Park Head

On a wet and windy day we drove to Park Head, a mile or so beyond Bedruthan Steps, to walk the cliff top path above the rocky shore.  A sea of white horses flung spray and spume high into the air, creating a thick mist as it smashed against the shore. Atmospheric indeed. 

Strangely built wall and wild thyme

Inland, thick cushions of wild thyme collectively must have covered several acres of ground, much of it spilling against the unusual zig-zag walls we've only ever seen in Cornwall.

Getting high

Three quarters of the the way round, the rain ceased.  We turned around and mostly retraced our steps, hugging the cliff top path to an exposed rocky nose with a vertical drop straight down into the noisy sea.

On another day we visited the poppy fields at West Pentire, only a short walk from Higher Moor.

Poppy field by Polly Joke

Flowering in their thousands and blowing in the wind with a vast array of corn marigolds it really is a sight to lift the spirits on a dull day.

Poppies and corn marigolds

On the way back we passed a curious shop that deals in old phonographs and vinyl records - if anyone should be interested in such things.

For the record....

Newquay is not our scene but one day, it was Tuesday, we took a ferry across the Gannel and walked through to the fleshpots.

Ferry across the Gannel

After the big tent has been taken down and the tiny backpacking tent put up for our last night in camp, it's been our custom to have a slap-up meal before returning home early the following morning.

View down the Gannel

 A restaurant called The Fish House by the Fistral Beach had been recommended to us, so we went in search of it.

A dreich day at Fistral Beach

We found it - next door to Rick Stein's - and soon sussed out the best way to drive to it the following Saturday evening.

Bridge over the Gannel

Returning to Crantock, the tide was out and the ferry had run out of water.  It took us a long time to locate a bridge across the remaining deep channel and by the time we reached camp it had begun to rain.  It was 3pm and it rained all day and every night until 3pm Friday, three days later!

Hurray, it's stopped raining for a final run

Saturday dawned sunny and cloudless, perfect for a last run and hearty breakfast before taking down the big tent.  Torrential rain had dissipated quickly into the sandy soil enabling our tent to be packed away perfectly dry.

The 'five minute' tent - ready for a quick getaway Sunday morning

The  small and intimate Fish House with its friendly staff was indeed an excellent choice for our final evening meal.  We returned to camp happy and replete to settle down for an early night before Sunday morning's crack-o-dawn departure.

We were home by noon.  

Just in time for lunch!

Another week, a few more miles......

After recent runs over Castle Hill I'm happy to report the resident rabbit population is once again on the increase.  

My running track round Victoria Tower.  I call it altitude training!
(Click to enlarge pictures)

Strangely, a few months ago, nearly all my little furry friends vanished overnight for no accountable reason.  A pair of buzzards may have been partially responsible - and the local poacher readily admitted taking 'a few' - but between them they couldn't have wiped out so many so quickly. 

Oh, it's you again...

No evidence of myxomatosis was either seen or reported.  It's a mystery.  But it's good to see them back and I hope they soon get used to the sound of my feet pattering past on early morning runs.

Setting off round Grimwith

There were sunny spells on Sunday's pre-breakfast run round Grimwith but a nithering south westerly chased white horses across the ruffled water.

Scattering the sheep again...

We were looking for orchids but found only one, an early purple not yet fully opened.  In weeks to come there'll be many more of various varieties to cheer us on our way, or stop us in our tracks with cameras in shooting mode.

Only 4½ miles?  Let's go round again...

The Grimwith cuckoo seems to have deserted us but judging by the constant alarm calls of curlew, lapwing and oystercatchers there must be quite a lot of chicks enjoying their first taste of life on earth.

"Did you bring me any breakfast?"

 "Don't be frightened, we're not going to harm you" my wonderful partner will say to the agitated birds.  But apart from a friendly chaffinch none of them seem to understand!

Winding down......

Updating my latest running log book this morning I discovered I've run 39,600miles, over 1½ times round the equator.

My thanks to Terry Lonergan of Complete Runner for this birthday greeting - and for the smart vest I'm wearing.     (Click pictures to enlarge)

No wonder I'm feeling a little tired. Since returning from Menorca runs have been reduced to just three a week, though I've extended some of them a little. 

Bluebells enhancing a run back o' Grimwith
and a cuckoo called

Bluebell woods and cuckoo haunts added a couple of miles to my Castle Hill route whilst back in the Dales we ticked off a seven mile run that used to be a favourite of ours until it got too churned up with rampaging beasties. It's dried out now and a pleasure to run again.

Please let me through

I think the local Charolais cows and calves think I'm quite harmless for they allow me to burst through the herd without incident. One of them, playfully I thought, blocked a stile on my way to Castle Hill the other morning and no matter how hard I pushed, it wouldn't move.  I turned my back on it and it walked back a couple of yards, maybe having lost interest. I think it laughed as I ran by...

Son Alasdair and partner Angela in Hebden Ghyll

I'm missing Menorca sunshine and warmth but it's good to get back to old haunts of which I never tire.  My eldest son and his partner, Alasdair and Angela, favoured us with a visit last week.

Zoom on a ring ouzel

 Alasdair is a keen ornithologist and was anxious to see if ring ouzels had returned to their nest sites up the ghyll.  They had but proved awfully difficult to photograph though we hung around patiently for quite some time. Another visit is called for. When the rain stops...

A happy little meadow pipit

We enjoy walking with Alasdair.  He has eyes like a hawk.  Consequently, the number of species observed with him is considerably more than when we're walking by ourselves.

Hawkeye on the lookout.

What's more, he knows what they all are, can recognize their calls and focuses his binoculars in a matter of seconds.  Ironically, he'd come to Hebden to drive me home for an appointment with my Consultant eye specialist early the following morning.
The news was not good....

Bare House run

On another day we ran the 7 mile Bare House route in glorious sunshine passing less than half a dozen people throughout.  It involves over 750ft of ascent, so can be a bit tough on old legs.  But we coped well.

Speedwell

We got the blue carpet treatment where speedwell lined the trail towards Yarnbury and a myriad mountain pansies turned their yellow faces to salute the sun. High in the clear air a tiny black dot against a fluffy white cloud showered larksong over us.

The wonderful downhill run to Grassington.

We love its two miles of fast downhill to the 5 mile marker at Grassington, leaping over stiles and scattering surprised sheep before the trog back along High Lane and through flowery SSSI fields to Hebden.

Zooming in to early purples in the SSSI area.

Orchids are starting to bloom but we declined to make trails towards them through the grass that would show others their whereabouts. Not that we don't trust people you understand!

Stepping stones across the Wharfe at Linton

Water was quite low in the River Wharfe on a day we ran along its banks in a cooling westerly breeze.  A Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme group were heading for Grassington under their loads, girls marching cheerfully ahead, boys looking a wee bit miserable to the rear.

Happy to be running on such a braw day

An albino duck accompanied a pair of mallard while nearby a gaudy mandarin drake and female goosander appeared to be having a siesta in a calm stretch of water. Over and around them, a solitary sand martin hawked back and forth in search of morsels. Such sights make welcome breaks as we stop and stare.
It's not all about running.