By: Blonde Two
Hopefully this morning, as you read this blog post, I am swinging gently in my hammock, snuggled in Big Orange (my faithful sleeping bag) and gazing at clear skies. I may, of course, be back at Six-Foot-Blonde’s house staring at a pile of soggy equipment and trying not to be grumpy with my family.
On Easter Sunday, family B2 rose, ate chocolate, looked at the weather forecast a few times and decided that the scores were:
Hammocking 0
Short Walk 1
More Chocolate 50
So we decided to go for a little drive and an even littler Bimble to visit the Bride Stones. There are, I have discovered, more than one set of Bride Stones in the Land of Up-North. These ones are up above Todmorden and look very interesting from a) the pictures, b) the misted up window of the car.
I should explain that I didn’t actually meet the Bride Stones face to face. In the hope of a weather window, we got all kitted and bagged up, including coffee making facilities and a tarp (Six-Foot-Blonde never goes anywhere without a tarp) and drove up to the car park. There was a fabulous view down the valley (Calderdale) all the way to the rather tempestuous skies that were clearly hovering. As well as the tempestuous skies, there were occasional flashes of sky-encompassing lightning.
We looked, and we discussed options, we looked some more, and we discussed options some more … Anybody who is part of a family will understand that family-based decision making can result in some, let’s say, interesting results; which is probably how we ended up setting off on our Bimble as the black clouds stalked ever nearer.
I have just checked the map and we managed 100 metres up a road and another 100 along a boundary before the weather caught up with us. Mr B2 and I were alerted to the fact that we were heading back to the car by Six-Foot (who had strode ahead) shrieking back past us as the hail hit us full in the face.
We dipped behind a wall for a while, but by this point the thunder and lightning were indicating the nearness of the storm and the wind was even blowing the hail through the holes in the wall.
There was a lot of laughter as we all trotted back down the road, removed soggy clothing and climbed back into the car, and we sat and watched the storm blow over.
I would like to be able to tell you that as the sky started to clear down the valley, we got back out of the car and started our walk again; but that wouldn’t be true, we headed for the pub instead, which was nice but maybe not quite as good for us. The Bride Stones are going to have to wait and by the way, I haven’t quite got used to the idea that my children are old enough to buy me a pint!
Years ago with my young family and my late wife Ann we took the trailer tent to Ardnamurchan (north-west coast of Scotland). After two days of non- stop rain, Ann, who was prone to dramatic sweeping decisions, said “that’s enough, we’re off to Cornwall”. I’m not sure if Slapton is in Cornwall but it’s a hell of a long way from Ardnamurchan. I of course obeyed and we drove non-stop all the way and had the rest of the holiday in glorious sunshine.
That is a fabulous story. Slapton is not quite in Cornwall but I am glad Devonshire gave you some happy memories, you will pass Slapton again this summer if your plans work out.
There’s been a lot of hail this year. Out bird watching, I carry a hooded cape made from a tarp – I can pull my head inside, tuck the dog under it, pull the hood right over the top and stay inside a miniature tent while the cold stones bounce around outside. K9 doesn’t like hail. So if you pass a bright blue figure with a swirling garment of indeterminate shape, it is not a moorland ghostie or bogle – – –
I like the miniature tent! We carry a storm shelter when we are with the youngsters (or rather ask them to carry it!).
[…] might remember that we have had a previous family adventure up to see (we didn’t) the Bride Stones up above Todmorden. Mist instead of snow this time but […]