Sometimes we have a great idea and we're all 'yeah, man, yeah, let's go there!', and other times we just can't bring to mind the names of any outside places. Today was the latter. Matthew was keen to walk because he'd missed two days, and I was keen to walk because I'm full of lovely bubbly energy a lot of the time now, but we didn't know where to go.
We got in the car. We sat in the car for a few minutes. I turned the car on and we moved off the driveway. We sat in the car outside my house for a few more minutes. 'I tell you what, Matthew,' says I, 'shall I just start driving and see where we end up?' 'Yes, Mother,' says Matthew, because he genuinely does call me Mother quite a lot.
So we set off and avoided turning anywhere that might take us to a place we'd already been recently, and we eventually ended up heading out of the valley and towards Clougha Pike (people from Lancaster, have you ever read Clougha's Wikipedia entry? It's really cute!) Well, it was raining and possibly foggy – though I don't know if it was fog or just low-lying cloud – and also quite late in the evening, so we couldn't do Clougha today, and I hadn't the legs for it anyway. 'Littledale rocks, Matthew? Will that do?' I asks him. 'Oh yep, that'll do, Mother,' says he.
So we parked here and had snacks to fortify us for the huge climb up Littledale rocks – this is funny because it's a very small climb and toddlers can manage it in three minutes. Matthew wanted me to tell you that his snack was samosas and mine was the other half of my Snickers from yesterday. It seemed important to him that you should know, so I've told you. When he was five, he brought a hard-boiled egg for his snack and carried it all the way to the top of the rocks and back down again without breaking it. He wanted me to tell you that too.
He also said that I was allowed to show you what he looks like now. You can see the effect of the lockdown on my son's sense of pride in his appearance. He is wearing his pyjamas and my Ugg boots because why the hell not? There's no one else here! The sheep don't care about your leg coverings. Also, he was quite keen for someone to see his turquoise hair before it has to be dyed brown again for school ... in September.
Oh, also, he's copying a pose he did for a photo just in this spot when he was five, just in case you were wondering.
Look, there are the rocks, just beyond the cattle grid. Can you see them? No, you can't, because they're shrouded in cloud/fog. No matter. You don't need to be able to see them to reach them. Honestly, there was zero danger, Auntie Trish – we've walked up here a thousand times, at least.
And look, see, as you get to the fog it sort of disperses around you anyway. When I'd parked the car, I looked at Matthew and he looked back and me and we were both thinking this was going to be the crappest walk ever. But, when we turned off here, we completely changed our minds and just knew it was going to be brilliant. For one thing, the colours were amazing!
It's so unlike anything we've seen so far on our lockdown walks. Isn't it wild? Like, wild because it's untamed and a little bit alien, not wild because it's, like, far out, man.
I think the last time we came here was actually the time that Matthew posed by the sign when he was five. But you can't get lost – you just follow the well-trodden path. I wonder why it is so well trodden, because I've never seen any other people up here. It's a very quiet path too, because the whole of the little hill is made of peat, apart from the rocks, obviously. If you've never walked on peat, it's lovely, sort of comforting because it feels like a mattress or lots of quilts, and it deadens the sound. On a windless day, I think you could record yourself up here if you were a voice actor and it would sound pretty good. Apart from the occasional squawk from a grouse or a peacock (yeah, we heard peacocks this evening: https://www.freesoundslibrary.com/peacock-call/).
And that's it, the top. Welcome to Littledale rocks. I don't know what everyone else calls it, but that's what we call it. On a fine day, obviously, you can see for miles from here. It's quite high up because you drive halfway up the side of Clougha to get here. My brother and I used to come here with our parents, and now I bring my children here. Never been here in the fog though. Isn't it dramatic? Aren't you worried that one of us fell off the edge? Haha, hahahahaaaa!
Well, we didn't. And even if we had, I think the worst that would've happened would have been a couple of scrapes and possibly a twisted ankle. If you fell off, you'd just land on moss and ferns and peat.
The path carries on over the rocks and down the other side and you pick your way through the bracken in places. You can hear grouse calling all around you, but it's not at all eerie. It's just really cool!
I've got nothing more to say about it, so I'll just show you more photos of this very beautiful little place that I thoroughly enjoyed walking in this evening.
Look, pretty!
Ooh, look, colourful!
Gosh, even more colour – look, the last of the bluebells!
And the path just keeps going. Actually, as it has been a little while since we were last here, I wasn't entirely sure when or where the path ended, but I had a feeling it was going to run out soon.
But not before it led us to the third way into Narnia!!! Yeah, I know – how lucky are we that we've found three of these in just two months? Amazing.
Okay, so, of all the photos I've taken since Matthew and I started this crazy ride, I think this one has to be my favourite so far. It's a bit special, no? I'm turning this into my Mac wallpaper.
We still couldn't get in, though. I think it's because I'm 43 and only children are allowed into Narnia. But that's okay, because that's where I'm going when I die. Or Neverland. Maybe both. Oh, and Valhalla, because that sounds awesome. So those three places. And Middle Earth. So four.
We reached a road, but ...
I have no memory of this place ...
Neither of us could quite tell if this was the road we drove up on. I suspected it was because there aren't many roads around here, but I didn't really want to follow it only to find ourselves out on the top of the fell. Also, Matthew saw an orc in the woods on the other side of that wall, so we decided to go back to the car.
This was the first time my feet have been properly wet on a walk. My Ugg boots that Matthew was wearing are completely ruined, which is fine because no one really likes Ugg boots.
It's quite steep going back up from this side, so we sat on the rocks and had a little rest to catch our breath, cursing ourselves for not bringing the flask of tea. But I tell you what, it was drizzly and a little breezy, but we were warm from our little climb and I haven't felt so wonderful in a long time. Amazing.
Okay, so, if you fell from here, perhaps it would be more than a couple of scrapes. This bit is probably high enough for you to knock yourself out at least. Fair enough. I'll stay away from the edge when it's foggy in future.
Just one more picture of the bracken and bright ferns, and then we were back on the road.
But we've grown so used to walking more than half a mile that we weren't quite ready to go home, so we tramped off up the road to see what was further on.
A lovely gate. There's a bit of woodland over there, honest.
And at the crest of the hill, there was the most eerie sound I've ever heard in real life. Spooked me a bit. I tried to get a little audio clip of it for you, but it was too windy by now. This post was singing. Just think of the most haunting wailing you can imagine, and that's what it sounded like. Actually, it wasn't singing; there was a hole in the post and the wind was playing it like a flute (which I know because I can play the flute).
Scared these poor sheep, it did. Look at 'em, scarperin'. The lamb had a poorly leg and couldn't put any weight on one of its front– what do they have, hoofs? Anyway, there wasn't anything we could do about that because there was no one here and we would never have managed to catch it, or have known what to do with it if we had.
I could've fancied walking further, but there's really nothing else here; well, there is, you can walk on for ages, up and down more hills. But this bit is just a lovely little place at the top of the world where you can find a bit of peace and stretch your legs. Heavenly.
So we went back to the car, which is right there in the photo:
I had to stop on the drive home to snap this because it's just beautiful. Look where we live, eh? We're so lucky.
Until tomorrow, Narnians.
WQ
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