And so, in the virtual world of this blog, we reach November and a very wet weekend spent at High Close Youth Hostel above Langdale in the Lake District. Our regular group of old friends, with whom we regularly meet up, are approaching 50 (well some of us are, some are well past 50 and some still have a fair way to go). By way of celebration the Mad Man booked the entire hostel and, widening the net, invited a whole host of old faces to join us. It was an interesting weekend – almost all of my oldest friends were there, people I’ve walked and holidayed with for 30 years, whose weddings I’ve attended, whose children I’ve watched grow up, but then there were many more people there whom I knew 30 years ago but have barely seen since. I think that there were 56 of us all told so there was plenty of conversation to be had.
Which is a good job, because the weather was dreadful – and this was before the arrival of storms Abigail through Frank. On the Saturday, during a slight lull in the hostilities, some of us had a wander up Loughrigg – I set off slightly ahead of the group, as is my wont, and didn’t see them again until the summit due to some injudicious navigation on their part (they went a long way round). The photo above was taken on our circuitous descent route when we sheltered in Rydal Cave which isn’t a cave at all, but rather a former quarry which used to provide roofing slate.
On the Sunday morning it actually brightened up briefly, long enough for me to take an early stroll down through the woods of the High Close Estate…
…to the road at the bottom…
…but by the time I was following the stream back uphill it was raining heavily again.
Later a small band braved the weather to wander down to the falls at Skelwith Force and back again, but it was foul whilst we were out and my camera stayed firmly in my rucksack.
It would have been nice if the sun had shone, if only for a while, but it was great to see everyone and I don’t think we allowed the weather to put too much of a damper on the occasion.