Job done

I spent Thursday night with T's mum, sister and nephew, Harry. I got there just in time to pick Harry up from school, which is something I've never done before but really enjoyed. It was lovely to see them all again and to catch up on each other's news. On Friday I drove up the road to Sheffield and had lunch with T's step-sister in one of my old haunts from 15 years ago (where has that time gone?), the Nursery Tavern on Ecclesall Road. First of all I had to walk past two other haunts, Champs and the Pomona, to check they were still the same. They are.

It was so weird being back in Sheffield, my home for four years while I was a student. So much has changed. Obviously. But it's all still so familiar. I love it there. I took poor Grace on a scenic tour of all of T and I's Sheffield houses. She didn't know such dodgy areas of the city existed. My first year flats win the prize for dodginess. It's a huge, ugly block of flats in a fairly central but rough part of Sheffield. Student flats were interspersed with normal flats. But the people who lived in these normal flats were typically drug dealers and thieves. Or both in some cases. Our neighbours burgled us over the Easter holidays. We obviously called the police when we got back. They took prints etc etc. Then in the lift the next day, one of my friendly drug dealing, thieving neighbours chanted 'thief dobber' at me until the doors opened on the ground floor. Actually, it was a miracle the lifts were working that day. Normally they were closed off as crime scenes following the previous night's stabbing. You frequently had to step over blood stains. But for some reason, us students didn't seem too phased by it all. I guess it was all we knew. And we still had a great time living there. Happy days.

From Sheffield it was up the A1 to Wensleydale. The weather had been glorious all day but there was a very heavy downpour coming through the Dales. The roads were quite flooded in parts and I was beginning to think that the weather forecasters might have got it wrong for the day of our big walk. 24.5 miles in the torrential rain would not be fun. But by the time I arrived in Askrigg, the rain had almost stopped. Thank goodness.

My alarm went off at 4.55am on Saturday morning. Ouch. It was a lovely morning though - clear skies and already very warm. We set off walking from Horton-in-Ribbledale just before 6.30am. For some reason I can't really remember much of the first peak. Maybe the sleeping tablet I'd taken at midnight was still working its magic. Or maybe by the time we climbed the third peak, 9 or so hours later, my brain had already erased the memory of the first peak. Anyway, I do know that by 7am we'd stripped off to our last layer and had already started to apply the suncream. It was freaking hot. Not the best conditions to be walking in. But we had to get on with it. The first peak came and went quite quickly but there was a long walk to peak two. In fact, the ascents and descents of the three peaks don't actually take very long. It's the distance between the peaks that adds up. But at least that's generally on the flat, down on the valley floor.

Time kept ticking by and as it did, the mercury pushed ever higher. It got to about 30 degrees I reckon. We had to take on a lot of fluids and some people didn't go to the loo from leaving the B&B at 5.30am to getting back at 6pm. A combination of dehydration and sweating it out I guess. Peak two was a bit of a killer. Mainly because we chose to go up the shorter but steeper path. More than one person likened it to climbing up a black ski run. It was hard. 80% of the time I was on my hands and knees scrambling up. I tried sitting down on the slope at one point to rest, but my strange vertigo kicked in and I had to keep going. I've got a thing about sheer drops. Not heights in the traditional sense but sheer things that I'm on, that I feel I could fall off. The good thing about the short, steep ascent was that it was over quickly. Because we were scrambling, our heart rates didn't increase by too much as we were climbing quite slowly so we weren't too shattered when we got to the top.

We had an 8 minute lunch atop peak two. Well, maybe 10 minutes. Time was of the essence. I should mention at this stage that the scenery was spectacular. I hadn't appreciated what a beautiful part of the world Wensleydale is. I'm definitely going back. There's lots of walking to be done and some lovely little villages. I wish T had had the chance to discover it. There are some great motorbike roads. He would have loved it there. And he would have loved the Black Sheep ale too. I sank a pint or two for him while I was there. The other thing to note is that there were thousands of other walkers on the path with us. Like proper bus loads of them. It was a bit like the Inca Trail in that respect. I hadn't expected that and it spoilt it a bit. I like the peace and quiet of walking in remote areas. You don't even need a map to complete this walk. Just follow the hoards ahead of you.

The descent of peak two was hard on the knees but we were soon clear of that one and had our sights on peak three, away over in the distance. We stopped for refreshments at a little stall in a barn. They were doing a roaring trade, not least because they weren't trying to rip walkers off. A pint of iced orange squash was only 80p. They could have charged £3 and they would have still sold like hot cakes. It was nice to see. Peak three's ascent was hard. There was a very steep set of zig-zagging steps/rocks to climb. And it was really really hot. And we were really really tired. But we ploughed on and eventually made it to the top. Three Yorkshire peaks in the bag. Get in. Pleased as Punch we were. There were pats on backs all round and a thought for T, who was greatly missed. The euphoria soon wore off during the 6-mile walk out from peak three. It was the longest 6 miles ever. We were exhausted and hot and most of us were out of water by that stage. Muscles were aching. Blisters were rubbing. Skin was burning. We'd had enough. We eventually limped back into Horton after walking for 10h40m, cursing T for making us take up his challenge. But I don't think any of us had any regrets. It was an amazing day and we felt a huge sense of achievement. No pain no gain as the old adage goes.