Sometimes a day starts with a little promise other than another day spent festering in front of a variety of screens. At least those screens have vibrant colours which is more than can be said for this weekend in mid-February when grey was very much the colour. By Sunday afternoon, enough was enough so I dragged TJS from his pit and told him we were going out. It was already after lunch so a short route was required.
Hay Bluff has the distinct advantage in this regard, being relatively small in stature but with a road over a 1000 feet up it. The snow of the previous week was largely long gone although there was the faintest glimmer of brightness to encourage us from the car.
I quite like the direct climb up to the top from the car park on the northern side in a masochistic way. It’s brutally, unremittingly steep so there is challenge and enjoyment in getting to the top as briskly as possible without a pause. At my level that involves matching the unremitting steepness with my own unremitting steady pace. TJS struggles with this concept and whilst he’s leaner and generally fitter than me (he carries less fat than me for a start!) I always beat him up on these steep slopes. Tortoise always beats the hare.
After a brief pause we headed off towards the Gospel Pass and suddenly where there was once grey there was now some blue.
Turning in to quite a nice afternoon and reward for the decision to head out. Not exactly springlike but a warm feeling of smugness at least.
We pressed on and included the eponymous Lord Hereford’s Knob in our day. By the time we reached the top the grey was back again so we didn’t push our luck any further.
A brisk walk back to the car, avoiding the long road back from the Gospel Pass by stringing together a series of sheep tracks rather than tarmac
A day that promised nothing delivered something
surfnslide 
It’s always worth making the effort – whatever the weather or however you feel. 99.9% of the time, you come back really glad you went 🙂
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Hmmm – I might have to quibble with the numbers there. I’ve been out on a number of days – especially in my youth- when I really wish I hadn’t. A day in Arans with TBF in 1983 springs to mind!
Although, when you also consider that that there were several days when I didn’t go out and was really glad I didn’t – a memorable day spent touring the pubs and cafe’s of Edale then laughing as all the drowned and very cold rats returned, in 1986 springs to mind – then I’d be happy withe the phrase “Whatever the decision, 99.9% of time you were right”
Of course that flies in the face of my fervent and often mentioned belief that I’m ALWAYS right 🙂
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You can’t beat a bit of unexpected blue!
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It was short-lived – grey and dreary by the time we got home – so timing was spot on. Wasn’t expecting much more than a stretch of the legs so a good walk was a nice surprise
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