Walks, dips, swims.

Recently Mike has been laid up with a dodgy knee. However, by last week cabin fever was setting in. With no contours to worry about, Druridge Bay seemed a good place for an easy walk. Thus it was that last Wednesday we went for a gentle amble.

It was warm day with a blustery wind. There was no hurry and finding a sheltered spot, we stopped. A change in to cozzies and I nipped in for a swim. Something I find frustrating is my lack of confidence. There is always that niggling nervousness. There was a bit of cross current and the waves where fairly strong. Despite my qualms, I managed twenty minutes.

  Mike went in twice and had fun playing tag with the waves rolling in. Resuming our walk, we completed our circuit without any undue problems with Mike's knee.

On the Sunday we headed off to the Yorkshire Dales. Our destination was Rukins campsite in Keld. With the tent up, we went to explore. Mention has been made that the river Swale offered plenty of opportunities for swimming. We found a series of falls above Catrake Force. Two lovely pools offered some fine swimming.

 Mind, the rocks were greasy and further out the water was deep. Mike enjoyed some fine dipping and had an exciting moment! Once in I managed around twenty minutes. The lower pool has a few hidden rocks and had a few 'oh dear' moments as I attempted to slide down over the falls to the lower pool.

The water was slightly chilly but felt soft and silky on the skin. Before folk ask, no, we did not skinny dip. The falls are too well visited.

The campsite was invaded that evening by a large, (very large!) group of D.O.E and army cadets. Mind, they were generally well behaved, polite too. On the Monday, after the cadets early morning parade, we set off for a walk up by Crackpot Hall.

The day was fine and we were in no rush.

One for Alan. An old Ferguson I suspect? The whole area is riddled with old lead mines and workings. For anyone interested in industrial archeology this must be an area rich in history.

This is the route used by the Coast to Coast walkers. Further up much repairing of the path is being carried out. At the moment it looks hideous.

This path on the right is to be replaced by great, specially, cut stone slabs.

Descending down to Botcher Gill Gate, we stopped for a leisurely lunch. It was then a steady descent down to Dyke Heads and on to Ivelet.

+At Ivelet Bridge we turned off to wander though grassy meadows by the river Swale.

Staying with the river Swale we crossed it at Ramps Holme Bridge to continue up through more grassy meadows.

It is hard to imagine the noise, the toil, the industry that this now quiet valley once was witness to.

We were both feeling a tad wearied by this time and Mike's knee was playing up a bit.

Back at Keld we treated ourselves to a cup of tea and toasted tea cakes. We had earned it!  arriving back at the tent, we found that the indomitable wandering minstrel, JJ had joined us. A convivial evening was spent by the fire (in a fire basket) despite the rain and midges.
Tuesday morning I went for a dip. John supplied me with a humungous egg, bacon and tomato butty on my return. We had a walk up to Wain Wath Force. A couple of children in wetsuits were have a fine time in the water. Being right beside the road, it was obviously a very popular place. A large group of folk set themselves up for a picnic. It would have been nice to have at least had a dip but I found it too crowded..

Mike proposed a walk up to Ravenseat. here we indulged in cups of tea with freshly baked scones jam and cream. The path had been wet and clarty on the way up to the farm. Thus we followed the road for a short while and then joined a footpath back to High bridge.

 There are many well preserved barns in the area.

. A walk back down the road to Keld and the farm campsite to the cars and it was time to head home. A good couple of days.

Gone swimming

Over the last few weeks, my main focus has been on swimming. Mike and I have been regular visitors to Ross Back Sands to indulge in a spot of dipping in the briny. The problem was, for me, the fact that I never did much in the way of actually swimming. On our last visit I did manage to take to the water. However, getting caught in cross currents and finding myself heading out to sea, spooked me a tad.
Years back I was a regular open water swimmer. That was way back in time. Somehow though my interest in swimming has been rekindled. Having Parkinson's, there is an essential need to keep active. Being a non clubbable sort of person, I took a very big decision and joined a nearby sea swimming club.

One thing I immediately became aware of was that basically I had to relearn how to swim. Thus over the last few weeks I have been regularly heading seaward. There are no swimming lessons on offer. It is a case of getting in there and doing it.

These photos were taken earlier this year. As to whether I will manage to swim in those conditions remain to be seen. Several of the ladies at the swimming club, all like me, of more senior years, assure me it is fun. All it takes is to get out beyond the breakers hitting the shore and riding the rollers, so I am told?

How long I will continue through the year, I have no idea. Ideally I would like to swim through the winter months.It is a case of taking it one swim at a time. So far I am averaging around thirty five minutes in the water. Sea temperatures have been hovering around twelve to thirteen degrees. The worst part, I find, is the actual getting in. Once in it is quite enjoyable!
 Certainly on future backpacking trip my swim costume will included. These photos are a selection from my local walks taken over several months.

Three hills and a swim.

Mike and I have quite an established routine for this area. A day walking and then set up a bivi on Ross Back sands. The following day is spent on the beach and in the water, dipping and swimming. Thus it was that on the Monday we headed in to the Cheviot hills. Our first top was Fredden Hill.

A descent that involved a patch of dense bracken, a pause for lunch and then on to Hart Heugh. It was windy up there.

It was then back across Wooler Common.

 Mike nipped up Earle Whin. Then it was back to the car and on to Ross Back sands. Here we set up our bivi come beach shelter!

We had been considering a swim or quick dip. However, a heavy sea was running with large breakers rolling in.

Tuesday morning saw the sea much more settled. There were some fairly heavy waves breaking on the beach though. Getting in to sea I could feel the surge and pull of the waves. It was a little unsettling though when I realised that my feet could no longer touch bottom. Also, I could feel myself being drawn out to sea. Swimming hard, I headed back to the beach.. It was a short swim and yes, I was a wee bit spooked. Swimming solo safety must come first. Mike wisely stayed in the shallows. Later I went back in but did not swim very long.

 A pleasant couple of days. Over the next few weeks I will spend more time swimming and brushing up on my rusty swimming skills.

Of swimming and bog trotting

At one time I used to swim on a regular basis. That though was some years back. Wild swimming had been my preferred option. Over the last couple of years Mike and I had been visiting Ross Back Sands. A lovely, often largely deserted beach. We had spent time in having dips and playing in the shallows.  Mike in particular was much bolder and hardier than me, spending much more time in the sea.

Waterfall, Ash Gill, look closely, there is a figure.
It niggled me though, somewhere along the way I seemed to have lost my swimming mojo. A visit to the local swimming baths had been a negative experience. It had felt sterile, regimented, everyone swimming in marked lanes, ceaselessly plodding up and down. Worse still, it was crowded. In short, I hated it.
Well aware that my Parkinson,s is getting worse, there also came a need to counter balance it. Tuesday last, I made a step in that direction. Not being a clubbable person, I took, what was for me, a large step. Heading over to Whitley Bay, I joined up with a group of other swimmers and went for a swim. They are sea swimmers and I spent some twenty five minutes swimming in the sea.

Ash Gill waterfall.
On Wednesday Mike and I were supposed to heading for a couple of tops in the outlying Cheviots. Cancelled due to dire weather forecasts, we met up on Friday.  This time we had swimming in mind. Our first stop was to be Ash Gill, near Garrigill. Unfortunately the forecast differed from what we actually experienced. It was wet and quite chilly.
Ash Gill has a series of pools, some quite deep. Selecting one, we changed into swimming costumes. Mike was first in, gasping at the coldness of the water. Not hesitating, I edged in. Loose rocks under my feet made me a little wary. The water was not clear and any obstacles could not be seen. With the water up to my chest, I leaned forward, allowing the coldness to envelope me. There was little room for a full swimming stroke. Using a half side stroke, come doggy paddle, I swam round the pool. For a few moments I floated on my back, allowing the water to push me along. Really though it was a little restricted.

A swimmers eye view!
Overall, I was only in the water for some ten minutes. Possibly I could have gone on and swum in a few more pools. However, on getting out, a strong breezey wind was blowing and I began to chill. Thus I dried off and got into warm, dry clothing and joined Mike for lunch . Mike was a wee bit annoyed with himself for not taking the plunge. The water though did feel colder than the sea and knowing Mike, he will be back in the waves next week.

One of Ash Gill,s pools, note clarity of water here!
Ash Gill does not offer easy access, the path drops steeply down the the hillside. In the wet conditions it proved to be extremely slippery.

Taken in the rain, hence slight streaky affect.
In the afternoon we headed over to Cow Green. Originally we had thought about another swim. With the way the weather was we cancelled on that. Mike though, new of a few fairly remote deep pools near to the upper river Tees.. We set off to at least investigate them. Unfortunately it involved making our way across wet, rough, boggy ground. By the time we reached the river I was feeling a little wobbly. The rocks in the river were slippery and I opted out. Mike forged on, paddling across while I sorted out my meds.

 On his return, Mike gave the thumbs up on the pools. A return visit will be made sometime. Our return to the carpark involved a tad more bog trotting. A different sort of day but pleasureable.
The question as to whether I continue swimming over the winter months remains to be seen? Certainly I am not going to make any rash statements. It will be a case of one swim at a time, two or three swims a week. If my body adapts to the cold conditions then I certainly will make the attempt.