Back from work, changed, children fed and to bed. Me heading
north.
Detour on the way and I am parked by just before eight. It’s time to
head for the hills.
I followed the path round the back of the post office,
alongside a field of very inquisitive cows, then through the gate to the open
moor. The wind was noticeably picking up and the sunshine from earlier had
gone. Wall-to-wall, or should I say horizon-to-horizon white cloud so it might
get damp later.
I pressed on a little further, before stopping, quite hungry
by now.
Getting set up took second, then it’s time for food.
Lancashire hotpot boil in the bag. Not having used the beer can stove before, I
fumbled around for a bit – it burns hot and runs out of fuel very quickly, but
its simple and easy to use. It’s just a shame that the ground was not level, so
I used some tent pegs to stabilise the pan.
It was getting very late be the time, I had made a post
dinner coffee and was tucking into my After Eight, well, chocolate bar. At
10:30, it was still very, very bright; bright enough to see without a torch.
Then the first big fat raindrops fell.
This was the first of many, so it was time for bed. I
stuffed all my gear inside my rucksack which became my pillow, and jumped into
the bivi bag and I was set for the night. Unfortunately, so was the weather.
I am sure you are thinking? Did he get to see the sunset on this longest day?
The answer to that question is a resounding no.
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