Win Hill (night walk)

So, having missed the first few training walks due to being unavailable on weekends, my pie in the sky, passing comment to ‘the gaffa’ (Henry) about maybe doing some midweek night walks quickly turned into reality. What seemed like a good idea at the time led to Henry reading out the predicted weather for the evening, with a kind of sadistic look in his eyes.

“Temperatures of -1 degree but may feel much colder due to the windchill” he gleefully informed me. “30 mph winds but could rise to up to 60 mph” ... “that should make it more fun” he casually reassured me. Well, let’s just say the predicted weather was enough to create a book of excuses for some not to get involved on the day…………no names mentioned!!

After a good half an hour of contemplating excuses to go to the pub instead Mekalah, Hughesy and I were cramped in the back of Henry’s car, with Henry and Jacqueline nice and comfy in the front on our way to meet Rodders at The Yorkshire Bridge. On arrival, Dave removed the matchsticks from his Superbowl drained eyes, the head torches were passed out (to the lucky few) and we were off. The motivation to begin draining out of us as we smelt the pub lunches being cooked and imagined the real ale being poured in the Yorkshire Bridge Inn.

A brief, casual stroll to the foot of Win Hill was relaxing and after figuring out my torch was upside down and had a brighter setting (really beginning to feel like an amateur at this walking lark) we were ready to ascend.

Although the weather was seemingly being kinder than expected any consolidating thoughts of this being a short walk and a relatively easy introduction to training were soon gone. The immediate incline was pretty steep and the fact we could only see yards in front made for pretty tricky climbing. The banter had stopped, in fact, nobody really uttered a word for the first part of the climb, a sure sign everybody was concentrating on their footing. Realistically for me, it was due to the fact that I was struggling like mad to get my breath and my calfs felt like we were going to explode. A quick check of the watch, we were 2 minutes in. Surely not, “just a bit of heart and a bit of luck” ringing around my head. It soon dawned on me it was clearly not going to be easy this “little charity walk we were doing”

After a few minutes of selfish, head down concentration (which seemed like an eternity) I stopped to contemplate the navigation up the hill (in real terms ask Henry which way to go because I hadn’t a clue). We waited for the group to congregate back. In the distance, Luke appeared from the trees and selflessly passed his big stick to Mekalah to help her on her way up the hill….ever the gentleman. Luckily Dave’s torch on his phone was proving reliable as he continued to look like he was searching the ground for a lost quid.

We’d been walking/climbing for just 10 mins and everyone was breathing heavy, looking like the horses in the winning enclosure of the Grand National breathing heavy and steam emanating from us all. No time to stop though, onwards and upwards we attacked the steepest climb of the walk. Once again the talking demised as we got our heads down and pushed on. A good 13-minute strut and we had reached the top of the most difficult incline, a brief congregation, lots of swearing and the inevitable question “are we nearly there yet H?, are we nearly there yet H?” We moved on towards the (more gradual rise) to the top of the hill and suddenly the weather changed. We had had the comfort of shelter from the trees but the landscape opened up and the blustery cold winds hit us as we made our way to the top of Win Hill. A brief stop to layer back up, figure out what we could see, which was Castleton, was that Snake Pass we could see the car lights on, was that hope? Well, hope is what we really needed, Hope that the ‘pimple’ of Win hill as it is locally known as wasn’t too far away. The final push, the pimple insight we all safely made it to the top.  The wind was really up and blowing in our faces and then came the most difficult task of the evening………...A bunch of university educated teachers struggling to take a selfie. After multiple efforts, Dave’s ever-reliable google device successfully took the photo for proof and we were ready to decent.

What can I say, the descent was far simpler, a relaxing amble, meandering through the trees. The only complication being the occasional slip and slide as we kept our feet akin to Torvill and Dean on the wet, slip surface. Relying on Henry, we successfully picked the correct route and as Lady Bower opened up in front of us we had completed the route. Exactly 90 mins from start to finish according to the workout tracker on my watch. Can honestly say it felt like much longer. A short walk back to The Yorkshire Bridge and what must have been meant as a rhetorical question “is everybody having a pint?” Music to my ears. So I gladly (or not) crossed the barman’s palm with £7.30 for a pint and a couple of share bags of crisps (well through gritted teeth) and sat down with the gang to volunteer to do this blog.

Quote of the day “I think we all need to start taking this challenge a bit more seriously”

Hughes (2020)

Despite the tough incline, everyone agreed that it was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. So much so the next one is planned for next week. On that point, much appreciation should be shown to ‘The Gaffa’ for his willingness to organise all this training. Without him, we would all be lost (literally). Thanks Henry.