The outdoors for beginners 29/05/13

Following the success of the Corby ramble, I felt more than equipped for my life back on the road.

Ella, sporting a dicky tummy, or a ‘fire in the hole’ as I so tenderly put it, threw me out of a speeding car launching me back into the wild.

It was raining. It continued to rain. No worries I have all kinds of defences against all kinds of weather.

Note to self – I really should have washed my jackets during my time off – I immediately gave off the aroma of the outdoors. You know, the dead, smelly outdoors. Dead smelly applies equally well.

I’ve been spending much of my time avoiding the main roads. As much for Ella’s piece of mind as for mine. I’m not sure if she’s completely convinced by my telling her, ‘As long as I maintain eye contact with lorry drivers they’ll feel more guilty about running me over.’

The back roads in the Lake District are, essentially, the hills they couldn’t be bothered building the proper roads on.

I was pleased when I stumbled across a little fieldlet on the side of a very quiet (about 4 vehicles all day) single track road.

As I unpacked the tent from Hubert – quickly, it was still raining – I allowed myself that little bit of doubt – had I packed it away a month ago when it was wet?

Skanky describes the smell as I unrolled it – impressed at the many and varied growths that had made it their home – even the poles had er…something growing on them.

Rain or the skank?

Easy really – compared to my jacket it was almost pleasant.

A bit of radio to accompany the drumming of the rain – a goodnight chat with the lovely Ella and I was off in the land of nod.

What was that noise? There it was again…it sounded like a creaky door opening and closing….

It couldn’t be…there were no creaky doors to…

Bravely, I fell asleep.

The creaky door was a creaky branch. I need to reacclimatise. Cowardy custard.

Today I found a long cut – quiet roads – plus a cycle track through the hills. How exciting!

Today I found out that my map is unable to tell the difference between a cycle path and a bridle way – Hubert simply refused to go any further.

I’d have been happier had he refused at the bottom of the hill – not three quarters up just as my eyes were beginning to bleed and consciousness was but a memory…

No worries though – its been a beautiful day – people have been lovely – a man digging a hole has just slipped me a fiver.

I’m off to look for an unpopulated field near Dalton in Furness…

If there’s a 3G signal, I might get to watch the apprentice.

Mild glamping

Walk a mile


This entry was posted in hospitality, kindness, mental health, walking and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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