I parked the car, and the first thing I thought was bloody hell. The wind was howling outside the car, which was rocking in the wind. The rain was hitting the side windows like little bullets.

I stepped out the car, and pulled my boots out, and my windproof. Changing into the boots on the far side of the car, out of the wind and rain, I considered my self nuts for going out in this. But I don’t care. I’m outside in the fresh air.

Walking along the path into the wind, my windproof doing its job and keeping the worst of the wind out, but the rain stinging my face, like sandpaper. It was 2 miles before the path became sheltered, and another half mile to the walkers shelter. I ploughed through, hating my self for forgetting my Lowe Alpine Mountain Cap.

In the warmth of the shelter I sat and watched the rain falling. During the summer, you cant really use these shelters due to swallows nesting in them, as evidenced by the nests in the eves, and the filth dropping from the timber roof frames where the fledglings sit. But for now they are a welcome respite from the wind and rain.I considered putting ion water proofs, but as my legs are already wet, and very mud splatted, I decided it was a dead idea. My windproof was also wet, but as it holds the warmth even when wet, I just decided to plod on. The rain had more or less stopped, it was very light rain if anything. Still noticeable but nothing as bad as before.

Leaving the shelter and walked round the back, and up the hill. Not a very steep hill, but enough to remind me of how unfit I am. I stopped at the top and tried to pin point the noise of  a shotgun, I saw a Land rover on the hill, but couldn’t see any other obvious movement of shooters. A tractor was busy spreading hay for the fell sheep on the other side of the valley.

I doubled back, the way I had come, along a higher path. After all, this was purely a effort to check my leg for pain and see how it stood up to a rough walk. As I approached the only gate on this path, a all terrain motorcycle roared up to the gate, saw me walking and turned around and sped off the same way he had come. This path was open to all vehicles, it was re-classified by the authority a few years back, but the motorcycles still occasionally use it. Personally I don’t care. The road can take the traffic, its heavy stoned, and motor bikes cause little damage. If they where to start ripping up areas off the path however, that’s when it becomes a issue.

I walked the road, finding new and interesting rounds around many of the stupidly deep huge puddles all over.

Scar House was thundering, the first time I’ve seen the dam outflows in full force, raging down the Nidd. As I walked back to the car, I passed a couple, dressed in full waterproofs, hoods up and zipped right up. They looked me up and down, and gave me a look reminiscent of upper class looking down on the commoner. I don’t care, apart from being damp, I was fine. Warm and comfy. Given the weather, I would hazard a guess, after climbing Cam High Road onto the fell, they would be damp too, only from the inside out. I sniggerd and walked on.

Back to the car, I sat and had a coffee. I enjoy every walk, in all weathers.