GREENYGREY’S RAMBLES

Then there were three.  And we would that day walk through wild rugged terrain to the Nine Standards Rigg.

Nine Standards Rigg Walk

At lunchtime we set forth, across boggy ground that soon made our poor walking vessels fill with water; if they had been ships I’m sure we’d have capsized!

The day was very greenygrey, with miles of green moorland stretching to the grey horizon, which changed with the movement of the low cloud shrouding distant mountains.

A curlew cried incessantly as it flew overhead, while sheep were our only companions on the ground.

Adding Yellow to the Green

From a hilltop we could see yellow in the valley below, bringing vivid colour to the green carpet.  Some farms and a river too.

When we reached the yellow we saw it was buttercups; so small on their own, but together they created a blanket for the sleeping green giant.  A couple of oystercatchers called and flew.

Reaching our Destination

Nine silhouettes stood proudly on the hilltop horizon.  Our destination was in sight. 

To tell you the truth, I didn’t know we had a destination.  As I’d put my faith in my companions, and as far as I knew we were just on a directionless stroll.  It had taken us over three hours.

So we reached Nine Standards Rigg, high in the northern Pennines at 2172 feet, and what a fine sight it was.  The day had also cleared, so there were 360 degree views for miles, including the village of Kirkby Stephen in the valley below.

Apparently, nobody knows the origins of the cairns, but it is thought that they may have been built to resemble guards, and deter foes.

The final part of this thrilling travel tale will appear on this site tomorrow, god willing.

Video from Nine Standards Rigg

Photos from the whole trip

More on Nine Standards Rigg

Yep, it’s that greenygrey time of the week, when the GG reports on its latest virtual travels.  So over to el greenygrey for this week’s literary nonsense.

Mr.C 2: Rhode Island
Rowed I land in Rhode Island

Leaving Massachusetts with my chewers intact, I headed down to Prudence Island. It was nice and sunny when I arrived, and I spent a chilling morning relaxing on the beach.

However, a storm brewed up just before lunch, and my prudent decision to buy a canoe and oars was vindicated. So I pushed it out to sea, and paddled up the Narragansett Bay for an hour or two, until the city of Providence was in sight. Just as I was about to reach the harbour a dream I’d had the night before came back into my head, with the thought of me telling myself ‘Rowed, I land’, and then a few minutes later I rowed my last, and landed.

Once back on terra firma I headed into the city, and to keep my grey side quiet I travelled back to the nineteenth century to watch the Providence Grays win the first World Championship in baseball history in 1884. Those were some celebrations.

After that I travelled back to the modern age and travelled up to Pawtucket, where I gave my paws a well-earned rest with a paw spa before tucking in to some tea.

Then I travelled west, with my revitalised paws carrying me at lightning speeds. I headed up Jerimoth Hill, Rhode Island’s highest point, and camped there for the night. It’s a beautiful place, but most of the good spots had already been taken by towel-wielding bugs.

Yep, it’s Saturday again, and that means it’s Greenygrey time!  The Greenygrey only made it to one state this week; it must be tiring as it nears the end of its epic virtual journey!  Hey, even mythological superheroes get jaded you know.  Well, it had a bit of a special time this week as well, time-travelling (I know that takes a lot of energy) back to meet its favourite author, Jack Kerouac.  Anyway, enough from me, and over to the Greenygrey one:

Mass o’ Chew Sets in Massachusetts

MR.C 1: Massachusetts

Having made a diversion from my original plans by travelling to N2 instead of MR.C I now had to get myself back on track, with no land border between New Jersey and Massachusetts.

So I shape-shifted into a buzzard and flew up to Lowell; I chose a buzzard as I knew I’d be passing through Buzzards Bay air space, and didn’t want to ruffle the buzzards’ feathers so to speak. The buzzards were glad to see me, and gave me an escort through their territory. I appreciated their hospitality, and their company broke up the flight.

After landing in 1940s Lowell I visited the childhood home of my favourite author, Jack Kerouac, whose travel narratives influenced my rambles. We had a bit of a chat and a beer, and entered into a conversation about writing and travelling experiences and tips. I don’t think my advice really influenced his later writing, but I like to think my support gave him some inspiration.

Leaving Lowell I time-travelled back into the 21st century, and nearly got knocked down by a fast modern automobile. I got back into the swing of the new age after that, and made it down to Boston in time for tea.

I bit into something a bit tough while eating, and thought I might need some false teeth for a while. I asked a passing leprachaun if he knew where there might be a dentist, and he said there was one with a mass o’ chew sets around the corner. I thanked him, and set off for it, but by the time I arrived the pain had passed, and my need for new chewers had passed.

I fancied a swim after the flight and run, so I shape-shifted into a cod and swam down Cape Cod Bay to Nantucket Sound, which was quite noisy. Then I met up with the buzzards again, and we finished the day off drinking wine in Martha’s Vineyard. We toasted Massachusetts and Kerouac, and wished each other good times on the road and in the air.

The Greenygrey finished off its travelling through MNV this week, and its reports from New Hampshire and Vermont are below.  Next week its in N2: New York and New Jersey, so I hope you’ll join it there next Friday.  Cheers.

New Hemp Sure in New Hampshire
 
MNV 2= New Hampshire

Crossing into New Hampshire from Maine I made good progress over to Lake Winnipesaukee, and had a fantastic swim in there, changing intermittently from manta to reef shark, or a bright mandarin fish; the latter takes all my chameleon powers to accomplish, as there are so many colours needed to make up a good mandarin fish.

After a bite of lunch I took my time going through Laconia and must have looked quite laconic; I don’t think anybody saw me though, as I’d turned back into my default greenygrey colours, and the surroundings were nicely greenygrey.

As I passed through the countryside I saw a man in a field of crops repeatedly throwing a ball up in the air and then collecting it. I was vexed as to what he was doing, so I enquired. He said he’d used to live in New York, but he’d moved up to New Hampshire because of ‘Catcher in the Rye’. I said it’s a long way to move for such a sport, but he said New Hampshire has great rye fields.

I’m sure there was something cryptic in what he said, but I never worked it out. I started thinking about it on my way down to Concord, but was there before I knew it, so it went completely out of my head…until now.

Anyway, I was travelling so fast my greenygrey fur was falling into my eyes, so I thought I’d buy some rope to tie it. I asked at an old-fashioned wholesale store and the very polite shop-owner said ‘New hemp sure’.

So I tied my fur back with the hemp, and it came in very handy, as I flew from Concord to the border with Vermont, where I would end my journey through MNV. I slept on the banks of the Connecticut River, and nice it was too.

Very Mount in Vermont

MNV 3: Vermont

Crossing into Vermont I headed straight up into the Green Mountains, and started singing the state song: ‘These Green Mountains’. Well, I did add ‘ygrey’ onto the Green if I’m telling the truth, as I didn’t see another soul all morning, and could imagine it was just me and the mountains.

Then I swam down the Winooski River to Lake Champlain, where I lunched by the waterside, and enjoyed a nice cooling post-meal dip in the clear water.

Then it was back up into the Green Mountains, and I started heading south towards New York. Along the trail I came across a greenybrown creature, which was hiking in the other direction. It introduced itself as Nigela the Northern Leopard Frog, and we entered into a lengthy conversation. It asked where I’d been in Vermont, and I told it, saying the Green Mountains had kept me in the mountains a lot, so it had been a very mount journey through Vermont.

After bidding farewell to Nigela, I edged along the outskirts of Rutland to avoid the rutting stags, and made it to the border with New York state by nightfall. I still had ‘These Greenygrey Mountains’ rotating in my head until dropping off to sleep.