Ericstane & Skiddaw Recce

 It was a late Friday evening hike up to Moffat for the first of our two recce's. Speedy loves that hilly countryside. We had booked a hostel in Moffat and as we were running a little late, we decided to check in first to get our room and door key before we ran up Ericstane or Hartfell or wherever we were running. I saw the sign saying Hostel on Well Road and turned into the drive. The place was empty and not looking its best. Cat googled our booking as I wandered around the building stroking my chin and shaking my head. No-one around. She reckoned our hostel was 6 doors up and it was with some relief that we found our place with fairy lights and plush burgundy carpets. We got our key and took off for the run. Parking at the village hall which was nowhere near anywhere, we had a brief chat with two folk who were with their dog and mobile camper van and intended to spend the night there. We got our gear on and took off up the farm track and eventually found our way onto the hill. The grass was luxurious and no doubt tick-infested so we kept stopping to check our bearings and give our legs a good wipe down. 

We got to the top in just under an hour and with twilight in full swing, we took a couple of photos and horsed it back down the grassy track. The route veers right and takes you down into a wee glen and we found the beaten up old bridge which saved us getting our feet wet.  The run was spoiled for me after getting a fly in my eye which I hate and, of course, like a loon I rubbed it in so spent the rest of the evening with a sore eye.  We got back in time to Moffat for a visit to the Coop for some eyewash and a visit to the chip shop, well, for chips and whatnot.  Moffat looks like a canny wee place. It reminded me of Peebles.

We were back on the M74 the next morning to Keswick and were on Skiddaw in the murk before 9.30am. Speedy was soon out of sight as I ground out a jog-walk-jog toward the top. The weather deteriorated quickly as we ascended and getting near the top to the crag called the little man, I had had enough of the wind, the cold and the driving rain and made an executive decision to descend. The climb up this peak is all runnable but very steep and with it being the 4th highest hill in England, its a long trog.  We picked our way down through the wet grey slate on the way down and were soon drying ourselves in the car on the layby. 

In a very busy town, temperatures were very much better than up on the hill and after a visit for breakfast to Jaspers we wandered around the humid and heaving High Street making a quick trip to the New Balance outlet shop. I bought 3 pairs of socks for a tenner off the market sock stall where we engaged with the vendor who was entertaining and had a story for every pair. We made time on the way back east to drop into Sally's cafe in Warwick Bridge for takeaway cuppa's and top huge scones all for six quid. Lush.