Me and superdawg got a pass out from domestic duties yesterday (actually, superdawg doesnt really have any domestic duties outside barking at burglars, villains and other criminals, whether real or imaginary) - so, after setting off a bit late due to sheer laziness, we opted for a local walk (for local people) just up the road from R House.
I parked the knipemobile next to the river at Stanhope and wandered up by the incredibly flowery riverside to Eastgate. It was roughly at this point that I discovered that in all the excitement I'd clean forgot to pick the map up off the drivers seat. I did warn the pup that he should have reminded me about this and that it was now far too late to go back for it, and what if I forgot to feed him his tea?
He just pointed out the rather fine array of meadow cranesbill and expressed the opinion that this was, in fact, even better than Teesdale, which I though was right.
So, without any further guidance, we blundered through Eastgate (not too difficult as its not very big) and selected a footpath heading up the steep hill where we wanted to go - and so, ever upwards on to the moor and the trig point on Crow Coal hill, where I let Bruno watch me eat a turkey salad sandwich and a banana. Crow Coal, by the way, is poor quality domestic coal which used to be used to keep the kitchen fire in over night - cos it wouldnt burn very fast. Its no real use for anything else. Crow coal hill is ringed by a necklace of small bell pits, diggings and a couple of shafts - which I took to be coal diggings. Very handy for sheltering out of the autumn-like winds.
I followed the easy grassy hill top roughly northwards and joined the CtoC cycle route at the top of Rookhope incline, where a bunch of scouse cyclists asked me to take their pictures ("cumedd, eh piccy, eh?) - which I did.
Then on to Bolts law, which is a fine viewpoint. Just after this, Bruno jumped over the wrong fence (he likes jumping over fences as well as barking), and , on his way back, caught his trailing leg on the wire and collapsed, yelping into a snotty heap. This seemed to be disastrous - miles from anywhere with a crippled dog.
I felt around for deformities and couldn't find any, and noticed that the hound wasnt objecting to my examination of him. So I slapped his bum and told him to "come on" - and he did. He cheered up quite a bit later when he found a stick to run about with. Phew. I'm left with the thought of what might have been a way to evacuate a properly injured dog to the vet in Bishop Auckland from an isolated North Pennine hill.
We plodded along the railway track which more or less contours at 400+ metres for several km to the cafe at Parkhead, where I had tea and organic gooseberry cake (its a hard life in the North Pennines) - and I considered shortening the walk - confirmed by the fact that at this point it started raining.
So we returned to the car (with the map still on the drivers seat) via Crawleyside engine and Stanhope dean - a very fine bit of almost natural woodland.
Never go hill walking without a map by the way! (Doh!)
Incidentally - the roman altar pictured below is a replica sited next to the bus stop at Eastgate - the original being found nearby. Its dedicated to sylvanus, a roman god of woodland by a cavalry officer from Lanchester roman fort.
15 miles and a mere 1200 feet of climbing. The dog seems to be fine too...
