Pete's Walk

I'm a couple of weeks behind, still. I used to stress about falling behind with my blog posts, but then I realised that it doesn't matter in the slightest. You don't care what day I'm writing about – the past is the past, whether it's yesterday or last year. No worries.

So, a couple of weeks ago (actually maybe three), I went for a walk with my dad. We'll call him Pete, because that's his name. Pete's also been walking a lot lately, building up to a nice five miler that takes in some of my favourite little spots. Well, five miles is still much too far for Freya, so we decided to do Pete's shorter walk that cuts out a two-mile loop. You'll recall that a year ago I used to take photos of the whole of each walk, starting from my street and coming back to my street. I don't do that anymore because we don't need several hundred photos of my street. So now I start from the first nice thing I see, which was Freya's field on this day. We didn't go into it, we just walked past it. The farmer's been working on it, cutting back all those trees, putting up some new fences. We haven't been here for a while, so I think I'll get my wellies on again and venture out before the cows are moved back in.

We tramped up the lanes (Hasty Brow), chatting a lot about the barns and the fields and the farms. Hasty Brow is really lovely – I just wish the people who drive like idiots here would slow the hell down, but that will never happen. 

We stopped for a little reflective pause, and to admire this farm that always looks beautifully maintained, and also to take our coats off because it was really warm. The first warm few days this year. It's gone cold again now, but the warm will be back, of course – that's how weather works. 

And then it was down onto the canal. You know I love a canal bridge. We passed under the bridge, and I says to Pete, 'Do you remember that field that I found and decided it was my favourite?' And Pete said that he did. 'Well, I've never been able to find it again'. It was true. I knew it was somewhere between Hest Bank and Lancaster because I'd found it on that walk when I thought I'd done about eight miles but it turned out to be only four. We thought no more about it and carried on walking, enjoying the canal because it's always a delight to walk along.

And then it was there, my favourite field! Turns out I've walked close by it lots of times since noticing it for the first time, but I've not been paying attention. It's really close to my house. I have the most terrible memory for a forty-four year old. I'll probably forget the field's location again before the end of the month.

Here it it – the one in the middle distance, not the closest one.

I should've noted the bridge number, but I'd just forget that as well. What I like about the field is that it's also a hill, so you could sit at the top on a blanket, enjoying a picnic and admiring the view.

Freya seemed quite determined to fall in the canal today. She hared up and down, which she only does when she feels grass underfoot, lurching to a halt every few seconds to dip her head for a drink of filthy canal water. One of these days, she's bound to slip and go in, and I will laugh my head off. 

Here is my field from a better angle where you can see the whole of it. I think the perfect field does need a bit of a hill, otherwise it can't roll, and we all know that the best fields roll.

Onward! We wondered whether the field belonged to the people who live here, but we decided it probably didn't because this doesn't seem to be a farmhouse, but rather just a house. A very nice house that we both thought we'd like to own. It's important to have unattainable dreams.

Further on, Pete showed me the field that he particularly likes, which was this one, with a couple of very lovely trees – there are possibly three there, but it's difficult to tell at this angle. We weren't sure what type of tree this was, maybe oak. Neither of us are very good at identifying tree types when the leaves are off. In fact, we're rubbish. And not all that great when the leaves are on either. Pete's better at shrubs. I'm better at looking in a book and guessing.

We reached the new road. Is this bridge a nice one or is it really hideous? I can't decide. I sort of think it's both. Quite a monstrosity compared to the old canal bridges, but quite ... no, I can't think of anything nice to say about it really. Neat and tidy? Hmmm.

Here's Pete. He walks at a similar speed to me, which is great, because I'm not fast and never will be. He set himself a target of getting up Clougha Pike last year after a spell of not walking very much at all because of some joint issues. He made it right to the top of the pike! Hurrah! It's nice, isn't it, when you think you're seizing up and won't be able to do things ever again, but then you push yourself a bit and find that you still can? 

Pete's longer walk carries on along the canal for a mile or so, adding in a loop that makes it a five miler. We thought that was too far for Freya, so we cut out that loop and scooted up onto the new road for a little sit on the bench. We had to get past this horse first, standing there like the guardian of an important waypoint. It looks like it's preparing to ask us a question that we must answer before we can pass. And Freya's there, just having bowed before the horse, telling it to ask its question. 'Oh mighty one,' says she, 'give us your riddle so that we might pass and continue on our quest.' In reality, she just barked, shouting something more like, 'what the hell is that?!?!?!' It was her first horse.

I pointed out to Pete the other field that I really like, the one that has that lovely looking tree surrounded by sheep. And then we just looked at the view for a while, admiring the Lake District, which was just about visible, while I drank some Earl Grey from my flask. Selfish, I know, that I didn't bring 'normal' tea that Pete could also drink – but there's a pandemic going on, you know, and people can't just be sharing flasks of tea. That would've been very irresposible, so I just brought my own selfish tea for selfish people.

There's the Lakes for you, not really visible in the far distance. I did order myself a fancy camera for my birthday, but it's long-term out of stock, so who knows when it will arrive. Until then, we're stuck with these rubbish blurry shots when the sky is overcast and the light is awful. I'm not actually as moany as I sound – I'm really wondering how on earth I'll operate a fancy, heavy camera when Freya's pulling on her lead and trying to push me into bushes and canals, so it's perhaps best that it hasn't arrived yet. Some kind of cross-body strap will need to be purchased, I think.

After my cuppa, we walked back through the woods, but that doesn't take very long because it's tiny, and I didn't take any photos because I sort of forgot. Hurray, did you say? Cheeky. 

Until later, when I plan to finish off a couple more posts in another futile attempt to catch up with myself. 

Linda + Pete + Freya