Ingleborough North
Meeting up in the Horton-in-Ribblesdale car park there was much talk of the forecast being wrong and it not raining and some (me included) "glass is half empty" attitudes about getting the waterproofs on now. Matthew said "If it rains at least we will have earned our trip to the cafe afterwards". How right he was - I don't think I've ever enjoyed the warmth of a pint of tea and a tea cake as much.
So, we (Jasper, Matthew, Paolo, Jo and I) set off in cloudy but dry weather through the farmers' fields around Horton-in-Ribblesdale. It was just like a normal walk - pleasant company and beautiful scenery - a little cold and windy though. The first drops of rain were felt as we stopped for lunch, and I thought enviously of Mike (who Jasper said didn't fancy it today because of the forecast) sitting with a paper in his nice warm house. But as we were now at the foot of Ingleborough we might as well continue.
As the path climbed along the side of Simon Fell the gales hit us, regularly stopping us in our tracks or blowing us a couple of steps to the right. It was quite fun, a breeze you can really lean into - in our faces now, but at least we won't be walking into it on the way back. Fortunately the narrow route up onto the plateau of Ingleborough was sheltered from the wind but once up there is was like being in the jet wash of a 747, with added hail. I thought we were going to have to tie Paolo down as he looked like he was going to take off. After about 10 minutes of struggling into the gales, my GPS (I know - cheating) said that we were there, but where was the trig-point? As I looked around the visibility improved and we saw it only 20 feet away. Right, let's touch it and go.
Back down on the saddle on our way over to Simon Fell we stopped for lunch part two and actually got some nice views and the weather calmed a little. At Simon Fell we decided enough was enough and headed for home. After being battered by hail for another 20 minutes we hid behind a wall and watched the hail stream over us and water spray through the gaps in the dry stone wall. 20 minutes further on blue sky was seen and the views opened up again. I heard a few sighs of relief, Jo started the conversations up again and photos were taken to prove we were there. The wind dried us out on the walk back on Horton-in-Ribblesdale and we arrived back at the cafe, which could have charged anything it liked for hot tea, tired but happy.
John
