Tales Of The Bleak Midwinter – The Benefit of a respectable Walking Outerjacket (Even for the Northern Chap)!

Similar to most English people, I was caught unprepared by the cold winter weather of 2009. I will keep in mind Dec. 17th particularly well because, untypical for me, I was ill prepared for the weather and the happenings of that day. I had enjoyed the morning rambling, it was chilly and the very first few snowflakes fell in the early afte oon. I reside in Ingleton however had been trekking around the amazing Ribblehead Valley, admiring its famous viaduct. I retired to the local pub for something to eat and a crafty half pint ahead of driving back home. Sadly by the point I had cleared my plate, there turned out to be almost 6 ins. of snowfall. The public house is high in the fells inside Yorkshire’s Three Peaks and such amazingly swift snowfall is known to happen. My car at that period of time was a little hatchback, which is far from great in such weather so I straight away knew I had a concern. The already compacted snow on the tarmac had swiftly taken on the consistency of ice. I could see that this had ended up in a minimum of two motor vehicles skidding and getting caught up in the snow-covered moorland. Always an optimist, I strode to my car, got it going, engaged it in gear slowly and gradually but irrespective of my finest efforts, it stirred only a couple of metres, backwards. There was no grippage for the wheels in these sorts of situations, so just about every point I tried to manoeuvre towards the main road the tiny car just slid rearwards once more. By this juncture it was early evening, the snowfall kept coming and the sun was going down. So, having no other choice, I re-entered the bar to prepare myself for a herculean task; I was going to have to hike back home. I had with me a high-visibility vest and a couple of bike lights. They would make sure I wouldn’t be rather gradually knocked down by an out-of-control car. However, as I hadn’t planned to be outside for very long, particularly not in snow and darkness I had not brought my decent coat. I was wearing my ordinary walking gear of fleece, rain proof outerjacket, army and navy store combat pants, sturdy boots and (luckily) thick hosiery because the trek was seven leagues. It was rapidly becoming obvious that this degree of preparation would by no means nearly be enough. I was on first name terms with the publican and he provided me with a powerful torch plus a woolly hat for the trek to my home. He also insisted on giving me a large measure of brandy “For good luck. And inner warmth.” And so, thus attired, I started my hike back home. Some thing I discovered about winter hiking is never to walk using the laid road, as this is a recipe for sliding and many accidents, adhere to the verge at the side of the road. This I learned the hard way when I fell on a slight incline and was sent skidding along. For the next four hours, I edged the way across the valley, teeth chattering so hard I acquired a headache. My face hurt with the cold what’s more I appeared ridiculous with my borrowed pink wooly cap and cycle lights tied on with string. Eventually I fell into my local, I am told, appearing like a cross between the Yeti and Father Christmas, so bright were my cheeks. I recovered with the warmth and a little traditional hot tea, a buddy offered to drive me the rest of the way back home, for which I am ete ally thankful. His guidance remained with me and I will not forget it. “Next time, take a great jacket, just in case”. Wise words indeed.

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