.... random rants and rambles. no agenda. yet.

Anyone who thinks that the hills of West Yorkshire are boring should carry on reading this and hopefully change their mind in the end... not that I am trying to be a tourist information-type person, by the way (!)

On Saturday, we walked up Scout Rock (i.e. the hill in the photo at the top of this blog) and gasped in awe at the major views over Mytholmroyd, later gasping in shock and embarrassment when we realised that our new golden blinds could be seen shining er, goldly, in the sun from where we were, which was about 2 miles away..! Let's just hope they don't distract a pilot or something.

On the way down, we bumped into a couple of other walkers who were chuckling to themselves about the fact that a van had driven down the hill and got stuck after following its sat nav rather too religiously. It was now being pulled out, after spending the night there, so we hurried along to see the drama. It was weird to see; a tractor was pulling a recovery vehicle (!), which in turn was pulling the van, which was bobbing from side to side like a toy, closely followed by an annoyed-stroke-embarassed man and a small, excitable boy. I managed to get some photos without being shouted at:

Would you drive your van down there?!

Needless to say, the van was all beaten up and looked like it had been squeezed through a very small space (which it had) ... As we walked down and down the road-that-was-a-road-ages-ago, C and I were gobsmacked that it had managed to get that far! We also found this:

(a scraped rock)

(bits of van)

Oh dear. Sometimes it is hard not to laugh at other people's misfortune, even if you feel a bit mean doing so.

As if that wasn't enough excitement, on Sunday, we finally gave in to much nagging from A and went geocaching, dragging an amicable Ce along with us. Basically, geocaching is treasure hunting for geeks, where you drag yourself on longggggg, lonnnnnng walks up biiiiiiiiig, bigggggggg hills to look for tupperware boxes full of, er, crap, hidden in gaps in walls and things. And it's fun! Yes, really.

The first one we looked for could not be found, despite checking on our sat nav - ha! - and searching obsessively for ages and ages and ages.

We tried as hard as we could, but there was nothing to be seen, although poor Ce managed to scrape her forehead on a bit of rusty old barbed wire. Sigh. Disappointed, we walked along the top of the hill to see if we could find the 2nd cache, which we did, within about 30 seconds of arriving. Hooray!

And this is what was inside:

(a tea light and stuff)

Not to be outdone, when we got home, C emailed the man who had hidden the first cache that we couldn't find, to tell him that it had probably been stolen by someone for a laugh, or thrown down the hill or something like that, because it definitely wasn't there. The man emailed back to say he'd found 17 caches (hello?! 17?!) yesterday, thus making us feel really, really inadequate. He also helpfully explained exactly where it was, adding "Watch out for the barbed wire that will be above you when you bend down to look!" AAAAAAAAAAAAGH.

So now we have to go back. Hooray!