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Lands End to Cape Wrath
Page. Plant. Jones.
If you go down in the streets today baby you better
you better open your eyes
Folk down there really donít care
really donít care
Which which way the pressure lies.
( So Iím deciding what Iím gonna do now)
So Iím packing my bags for the misty mountains
(where the spirits go yeah)
Over the hill where the spirits fly.
Ooooooooh Oooooooooo ooh
I really donít know a-oh a-oh
I really donĎt know a-oh a-oh
Imagine the delight, youíve found a spot on the top of a hill. A big round hill just over from the trig point, taking shelter offered by some low gorse.
You made it up there around 5.30-6.00. Itís been a day full of weather, clouds lumbering over threatening rain and delivering around lunch time. Waiting it out in a saturated hay barn through a long heavy shower that sat on top for over an hour. Streams running out through tractor ruts, changing the colour of the day but moving away to allow the grass to dry by late afternoon.
So on top of this hill, 423 meters, sun in and out of towering storm clouds. Round grassy hills and lumpy mountains in all directions. Big views. Yeah! Clear air. Hill sides lit up in late sunshine.
Tent up super-duper organised and into warm evening gear. Exploring and gazing about and standing on top of the trig point for singing and dancing, stretch and shake, loosen up tight shoulders, breath and celebrate, proclaiming your territory, Saturday night no one else around, all yours.
Chilly wind though and possibly more rain coming up from the south east. Itís currently dumping on that there lumpy mountain you walked over the day before yesterday.
Weather coming your way so action. You need to get cooking, get on with it before it arrives.
Into the food bags and the stove, pots and pans and chopping and frying; concentrate with a job to do. Half an hour and there you are, sitting with a mug of fennel tea and big (waiting to cool) pot of Cheesy Chilly Chorizo and Apricot Pollenta De-lux.
Sitting with sunset and rainbow and yeah.
Another half an hour itís raining but youíre well fed and super-duper organised inside the tent. Washing up done even. (Grassy mossy hand-full, very nice scourer).
And the realisation dawns:
Yup. This is why you came
and why you carry all this stuff. Haul it all out across these
hills. Urgh, aching back and flat feet being driven into the ground.
To be able to do it like this. Do it in style. Cross the landscape,
wind across the face of the earth like this. Be out here and in it.
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