Sometimes You Just Have To Go

I’d loved it yesterday but, waking up this morning my leg was very painful and the bruising still quite deep. It was a shame because the sun was out and it was a lovely day. To be honest I struggled to get out of bed. Once out of bed it was clear that I wasn’t going to be climbing to any great height. This knock had been like a forceful dead leg.

With the van being iffy as well I thought it was best to beat an early retreat home, just enjoying what we’d already done, and giving Che time to sort out things if the van conked out completely.

What a shame when Snowdon looked like this! And how much snow had melted overnight.

Well it’s been a good trip, even if I only climbed one of the mountains. At least it was the biggest. The biggest in England and Wales. The coast path was good too, although I didn’t feel a great affinity for the place. I don’t think I’ll be trying to complete it. Not whilst Scotland stands proud and unconquered.

We wrapped up the tent and set off slowly across the country on A roads, not risking a motorway breakdown. Monkeys can drive cars.

She’s been very kind and generous and as she is retiring in March we will spend more time together on treks. It’s great support and camaraderie.

Back at last over the moors to Sheffield.

I’m staying at Che’s tonight and then on home to Leeds by train tomorrow.

Parting is such sweet sorrow. See you in March.

Night night.