On Sunday, I had been out walking since ten thirty in the morning and it was now three fifteen in the afternoon. The M62 motorway is shown in blue on the map above. I was north of it and north east of Heycroft Farm. Trouble was that those paths shown in green were little walked and badly signed. FB means footbridge. It was allegedly somewhere at the bottom of a steep and wooded ravine. I needed to cross it to get back to Outlane which would have only been another mile or so to the east.
By three thirty I gave up - discretion being the better part of valour - and headed back to the yellow lane in Hey Clough. Then I plodded north for almost two miles - taking an arcing route back to Outlane which probably trebled the intended distance. It was after five o'clock and getting dark when I checked in at the hotel. I was bushed or as we say in Yorkshire and Ludwigsburg - knackered. It had been a long march along lanes since I gave up trying to find the footbridge.
The room was pleasant, spacious and clean with a spotless en suite. I sat at the dressing table area merrily editing photos I had taken before heading out to the nearby "White Swan" for my evening meal. I had just ordered a pint of "Landlord" bitter and asked for the menu only to be told that they finished taking orders at six thirty. It was now six fifty.
I had visions of going to bed without edible sustenance. Would I survive the night? In a fit of panic, I downed my pint and sped back to the hotel where my trusty chariot Sir Clint waited to rush me to another pub on the edge of the village called "The New Inn". I had walked past it earlier on.
Were they still taking food orders? "Yes," said the sparkling barmaid after she had checked with the kitchen. I ordered a beef Sunday roast and when it arrived it was magnificent. Tender pink slices of top rump, roasted potatoes, carrots and parsnip, a medley of green vegetables in a separate bowl and a side order of cauliflower cheese. Tasty beef gravy and to top it all off the pièce de résistance - a scrumptious, golden Yorkshire pudding. Naturally, I wolfed it down for I had really earned that meal.
I shared four pictures in my last blogpost - "Outlane" - but here are four more images from yesterday's long walk:-