Читать книгу The Pennine Way - the Path, the People, the Journey онлайн

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Once clear of Longdendale, I slithered up the damp hillside into the cloud above Laddow Rocks. The sodden undergrowth made short work of my dry trousers. I waded through a stream where the slab bridge had partly collapsed and tried to negotiate several patches of spongy ground and bog, before finally embarking on a paved section that marked the long, gradual ascent of Black Hill. My feet were sodden and squelching and all I could see was wet, lifeless moorland. It was not a great start to day 2.

I plodded on for a bit, then decided to call a halt and maybe cheer myself up with a chocolate bar that had been earmarked for a likely afternoon treat to head off flagging energy levels; but much to my surprise I realised I was nearly at the top of Black Hill. I stopped by the trig point and, as I poured a cup of coffee from my flask, the thinning clouds finally parted and a little watery sun shone through. This was better. I celebrated by eating some chocolate anyway; and my spirits were raised further by a short but good-natured chat with a passing walker, a local man, who told me that in his opinion Black Hill was a fine place and unfairly treated by the walking guidebooks.