Trotting up hills

After more hills, we poddled over to Pen-y-ghent today. I had a vague notion of doing both Pen-y-ghent and Inglebrough, but had forgotten that we’d have to walk between them, and as we had to be back in reasonable time to have a leisurely supper and go out to a gig, it didn’t really feel like there was enough time.

When we got there the rain was only just letting off from a seriously wet shower – the sort where you have to drive at 40mph because its so hard to see the road – and the top of Pen-y-ghent was shrouded in cloud.

We weren’t entirely sure how much fun scrambling on wet rock with no visibility was going to be, so we set off the wrong way – up the gentle incline which is the Pennine Way.

It was very pleasant – lots of dry stone walls with rolling dales as far as the eye could see, and as we got closer to the top, the cloud cleared a bit, so although there was still banks of mist rolling over the top, the visibility was pretty good. We didn’t stop at the top, but started down the rocks, trying to avoid the various panting dogs, old people and chavs with no shoes climbing up. The sun started to appear as we ambled down the fields at the bottom and apart from a last sudden flurry of big fat wet rain, by the time we got to the car, there were blue skies populated by simpsons-esque clouds. A very pleasant 2.5hr trot.

After the leisurely supper we went to see Fightstar at Fibbers. They were, well, rubbish. Their songs were formulaic, singing tuneless (he did say that he had ragged his voice), bass sound messy, drums untidy and excessively complicated and guitars inaudible. Though it was fun watching middle-aged women shriek at the lead singer!