Soggy fam­ily stroll


We set off on a nice fam­ily walk – my­self, two sons and my wife. As we drove to­wards the York­shire Dales the sky dark­ened steadily,and when we parked un­der Rib­ble­head Viaduct a steady down­pour was fall­ing. “No such thing as bad weather, only the wrong coats,” I cheer­ily said. We set off up into the clouds, fol­low­ing the main path up Wh­ern­side. As we walked I warned the chil­dren that any com­plain­ing would jeop­ar­dise their chances of a treat when we got down. We climbed onto the ridge and were hit by a west­erly wind of some fe­roc­ity, and each of the adults grabbed a kid’s hand to stop them blow­ing away. Rain turned to sleet, blow­ing hor­i­zon­tally onto the side of our faces. My son, aged six, piped up from next to me: “Dad, I’m not com­plain­ing but I can’t feel one side of my head!” Only one re­sponse was suit­able: “Don’t worry son, I can’t feel mine ei­ther!” We all sur­vived, dropped down and called into the ex­cel­lent Pen-y-Ghent café to warm up. Pint mugs of tea for my wife and I, while my sons de­cided to opt for .... ice cream! There’s def­i­nitely no such thing as weather too bad for ice cream when you’re a kid. Phil Hen­der­son

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