We had planned a New Year’s walk. So myself, Dan and George set off for The Lion, Blakey Ridge, up on the N. Yorks moors. It had snowed but the roads were fine.
That is until we turned off the Malton Road towards Hutton-le-Hole. (We suspected Hutton was never deliberately called a hole but that it had some ancient lost meaning). Things then started to go downhill – and sideways.
The dear old Fiat Punto – which we shall call Priscilla for the remainder of this adventure – was sliding on snowy, icy, and very ungritted roads. This continued for a good half hour, so I had to urge a cold Priscilla, for the heating had indeed packed up, in whatever gear wouldn’t cause wheel spin and appraising the road carefully for any possible traction – whilst getting out of the way of oncoming traffic!
The day was bright and beautiful. The snow lay still, so we didn’t think much of it when we finally arrived at the Lion, out on its own with Blakey Ridge laid out to the east.
After a snifter… we set off. The first inkling of the adventure was a few steps across the road when we disappeared into 2 foot of snow as we attempted to descend the slope covered in white. We’d dressed up warm (partly due to a frigid Priscilla) and so decided to give it a go and followed each other down the hill by the farmhouse wire fence.
After about 100 metres, our decorum was slightly spoilt as we had to negotiate where the bottom of the hill met the dismantled railway. Negotiations resulted in us dropping and rolling to get to the flat bit and then some vigorous dusting off.
The place looked beautiful, the whole ridge and valley were covered in snow; we were regularly treading in half to a foot of snow as we made our way around the pathway that lines the valley. (End of Part One!)