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Shock!!!! Horror!!! Dismay!!! On Monday, I had a really, really tough walk.....in England.... It look 6 hours to cover a mere 11 km and just over 1000 feet.
And even worse - I had to wear boots.
In Derbyshire??? It all started off very pleasantly along the lovely Westend valley.
Stunning day - blue skies, sunshine, snow everywhere. The valleys were rather "full up" so it was pretty obvious that the sensible route was up the land rover track. This is when I started getting an idea that this wasn't quite going to be a stroll in the park...and confirmed when I met two people coming down who had given up because the snow conditions were a little on the tough side. Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I plugged on up the track and then, when it got a bit too snowed up, alongside it. The track goes through a deep cutting across the moor, way over head height, but it was absolutely full to the brim. Ummm...this is England folks????
The tracks petered out for a bit, but I soon found footsteps coming from Linch Clough, which made the going a little easier, and I only went in knee deep every now and then.
But it was still hard work - one step the snow was rock hard, the next it was crusted and then the next it was totally soft. Argggghh!!!! I felt a bit like Jake the Peg but with 3 legs of different lengths. The trail went to the bottom of Round Hill, but everyone seemed to have given up and turned round at that point. Curiously, that was the one place where there was decent neve up to the top of this little bump.
Weirdly, the snow had thawed off all round the cairn.
The next bit was a little trying, with thigh deep snow drifts in the groughs, but hey ho - onwards and upwards. It was a really weird experience to be breaking trail in England - usually there would have been a million people trampling a deep trench in the snow within a picosecond of the first snowflake.
But today there was just me and a chap coming down the hill towards me. We had a bit of a blether about how tough the conditions were and asking ourselves why we weren't the proud owners of snow shoes.
I was quite glad of the trail he had left, though I must say it was a bit inconsiderate of him to take such long steps.
The NT have put a daft fence across the moor, and their lovely gate was totally blocked with snow. Up and over! And on to Barrow Stones.
Quite frankly, that was quite enough of that for the day, lovely as it was - the lure of tea and cakes at the Fairholmes Cafe was far too strong.
I have to say I am very much looking forward to my next snowy trip to Scotland, so that I can have a jolly good rest.
I am never going to whinge about snowed up bogs on Perthshire hills ever again.