Here you can see the report from our latest walk and also some of the pictures that were taken.

Unless otherwise stated, report by Paul Coates and pictures by Keith Bilton.

Thursday 28th. February 2008

Wombleton, Welburn, Kirkdale (St. Gregory's Minster), Hodge Beck, Hold Caldron, Brockhill Hagg, Sleightholme Dale Lodge, Aumery Park, Intake Plantation, Fadmoor, Fadmoor Lane, Gillamoor (Royal Oak), Highfield Lane, Loskay House, Fadmoor, Woolah, Wattlemoor Slack, Robin Hood's Howl, Kirkdale, Field Path, Wombleton (13 miles).

Cloudy with occasional sunny periods. Cool breeze in the afternoon

Nathan, Paul, Col, Paul Craggs, Keith, Paul Holmes, Ray, Jack,

Col, Paul Craggs

The origins of this walk go back to when we used to park up at Kirkdale (St. Gregory's Minster) and then walk to Hutton-le-Hole. These days the pub at H-le-H tends to cater for the well scrubbed eater rather than the muddy and disheveled walker, so we now give it a miss.

St.Gregory's Minster

We had already asserted that the Royal Oak in Gillamoor was once more open during lunchtimes, and so all that was required was to add a bit of mileage onto the beginning lest Jack reported us to our leader Bob (away on holiday in 'Nam) for failing to complete the required quota of sweat, toil and miles.

We had planned to start from Welburn, but there was nowhere to park. We drove on to Wombleton where we found a convenient parking spot. The walk got off to a shaky start as we searched in vain for the path. After walking to the edge of the village and back again we realised that the path actually started round the corner from our parking place. Of course Paul, the map reader (alleged), claimed that the architecture at the far end of Wombleton was particularly stunning and that he felt it necessary to give the rest of the group the opportunity to view it! Of course the less gullible among our group just waited by the cars for the daft lads to return.

Craggsy carefully negotiates one of many stiles

The path between Wombleton and Kirkdale was new ground to us, but we were soon in familiar territory as we followed the track running alongside Hodge Beck. This is a nice wooded valley with plenty of early spring flowers coming through. On passing through Fadmoor village we came upon a sign proclaiming 'Local Honey'. It wasn't clear whether they we selling bees honey or perhaps advertising the location of the local house of ill repute. As we debated this perplexing issue the local postie turned up. We pointed out the possible confusion that could arise from this misleading sign, but the chance that the sign might be promoting something other than the product of bee's had obviously never occurred to him. These country types must lead sheltered lives or bus drivers particularly warped ones!

What a tart!!

The Royal Oak in Gillamoor was a welcome sight and we were soon ensconsed within. Points deducted for running out of Kronenbourg though. The disappointed lager louts among us had to make alternative choices, Keith unwisely going for a pint of Black Sheep. He certainly struggled to get it down. But being a glutton for punishment he ordered a second, predictably with the same result. If only Bob had been there, he would almost certainly have been able to guide Keith into making a more informed choice of ale.

A visit to the pub would not be complete without someone leaving something behind. Today's prize winner is Paul Craggs who left his flask behind. Fortunately the bar maid discovered the flask before we'd left the vicinity. Luckily she didn't ring the bomb disposal team thinking there was an unexploded shell under the table.

Craggsy's cunning plan

The afternoon was enlivened with occasional bouts of racing between Jack and Keith as each vied to be the front runner. At their combined ages (158) they should know better. There were murmurings among the ranks about the excessive amount of road walking in the afternoon (over a mile) but these self same 'murmurers' were complaining again later about the muddy track along Robin Hood's Howl. Some people are never satisfied!

We finished bathed in a low wintry sun, or should that be a low spring sun as spring seems to come earlier every year. We all agreed it was a good walk covering some new ground. We vowed to do it again at some future date, but during the Autumn. And hopefully by then the Kronenbourg will be back on tap in the Royal Oak.

Ray casting his expert eye on the map

DENNIS CRAVEN 1941 - 2008

Sadly we have to record the death of Dennis on Wednesday 20th February 2008. He had been ill for just a relatively short time, but finally lost his battle with cancer aged just 66. His last full walk with us had been back on August 30th 2007. This was the time he was sporting a nifty nicotine patch, but as he spent most of the afternoon trail blazing out in front we could only surmise it was actually a steroid patch he was wearing. On the Christmas walk he came to join us on the last mile or so into Millington. And as a member of the sick, lame and lazy club he also made visits, along with Chris and Jacko, to various pubs we have been known to frequent on our fortnightly walks. If he didn't feel at his best on these jaunts he certainly never showed it, and indeed he visibly brightened at the chance to share in the beer and banter with his mates. And it has to be said we were always pleased to see him there.

We shall certainly miss Dennis out on our walks. He didn't always say a lot but could often be heard chuckling away at something funny being aimed at someone else in our group. One thing he will be remembered for is always trying to get one up on Chris. However Chris would have to go a long way to beat Dennis' most famous exploit on one of our yearly visits to The Lake District. After a hard day on the fells and an even harder nights drinking, Dennis decided it was time to retire to his bed. By this time the bar in our hotel had been long closed and we were rounding off our evening in one of the hotel rooms. Dennis stumbled towards what he thought was the door out of the room and away to his bed, but he was in fact heading towards the wardrobe door. Paul Craggs quickly opened the door and Dennis stepped inside!!.You could probably hear the laughter up on Skiddaw.

Rest in peace Dennis, you will always be with us.

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