Southey and Allen were sitting quietly reading their Lake District magazines, when their peace was shattered by Tetley bursting into the room and shouting, "I am the bearer of wonderful news concerning our next walk."
Allen said, "what and where?"
"The where is Yorkshire, but the great news is that we will have Uncle Bob for company."
"That truly is great news", cheered Allen, who proceeded to do somersaults round the room in celebration!
Tetley went on. "I did not really think that we would ever walk with Uncle Bob again. But since he has fully recovered from his hip replacement operation, he feels able to cope with the rough terrain."
As Tetley had been speaking, Shaun, Grizzly and Little Eric had quietly come into the room, with the tea and cakes. "Did I hear correctly, we are to be walking with Uncle Bob, again?", asked Shaun.
"Yes pal", replied Tetley.
"Wonderful", cried Little Eric with glee.
"Well then" said Grizzly, "it is most appropriate that Little Eric and I have made Yorkshire Curd Tart, to have with the tea."
"A fitting celebration", agreed Southey, as he and Allen went to get the mugs and plates.
The mugs charged and tart on our plates we were a very happy band of brothers.
"The tart is absolutely delicious", said Tetley, who of course is from Yorkshire. "You can make this again."
"Yes please", agreed Southey, who was eying another piece. He went on, "so Tetley, where is it that we will be walking?"
"Well pal, to start with Uncle Bob does not want to tackle any hills, so has suggested a walk from Burnsall in Wharfedale. By the river to start to Hebden then over the fields to rejoin the river further upstream, and return by it to the start."
"It will be a part of Yorkshire that we have not walked before and the River Wharfe is quiet beautiful countryside," responded Grizzly.
"Roll on Friday", cheered Little Eric, raising his mug.
The Walk
Up early we got the picnic made and packed in Allen's rucksack, while we heard Dad getting his gear together and packing his own picnic.
A few minutes later Dad called out, "right lads I'm ready."
"OK" responded Shaun, as we headed out to settle in the car.
Pulling out of the drive Grizzly asked, "which way are you going."
"As Burnsall is in the southern part of Wharfedale, there is no point is going via Wensleydale and Bishopdale, rather I will use the A65 to Skipton then on the A59 to Bolton Abbey where we will turn north up the valley."
The journey was very pleasant through the beautiful countryside, the final part being a long descent to the village and the car park by the river just before the bridge.
Uncle Bob was there before us and once parked we jumped out, calling, "hi Uncle Bob, so great to see you again."
He had come on his motor bike, so once changed to walking gear, he stowed his leathers etc., in the boot of Dad's car for safe keeping. Then Dad took this shot of him standing proudly beside.
The weather was dry with sunny periods and mild enough for Dad and Uncle Bob to walk in shorts. The refreshment hut at the car park was just opening , Uncle Bob suggesting, "shall we have a mug of tea before we set off."
Well like our Allen, Dad is never known to refuse tea!
From the hut Uncle Bob called out, "do you want a sausage roll, too?"
"Yes please", replied Dad.
They were among the very best sausage rolls Dad has ever had. Lovely pastry and plenty of meat inside. The little sign by the tray indicated that they are called Fat Boys! Fabulous.
Having waited patiently, and with them fortified, we finally set off about 10:00, but not before Dad had crossed to the riverside to take the first of a number of pictures of the wide sweeping River Wharfe.
And in the opposite direction, of the graceful five arched bridge that spans it.
Immediately beside the bridge is the cosy Red Lion Hotel that dates from the 16th century, and selling the wonderful Theakstons Ales, that are brewed in Masham. "That is grand ale", said Dad. "I may never have discovered it had in not be for your Grandad Bill happening upon it at the Craven Arms at Appletreewick."
"Do we cross the bridge?", asked Southey.
"No lad", replied Shaun, we cross the road and take the path down to the riverside, on the Dales Way. The sign points the way and to the suspension bridge where we will leave the river on the outwards route."
This was mostly a surfaced path so good easy walking with kissing gates and gates allowing progress.
When we are with Uncle Bob there are lots of stops for photography. Grizzly had got the bug too, almost immediately pointing, "with the trees that makes a nice shot of the river."
Seeing the information board, Allen said, "that looks interesting."
As can be seen it is a depiction of some of the people who have used this ancient path by the river over the last 1000 years. We spent a few minutes reading this, and also while Dad had been taking the picture, Uncle Bob had captured the moment.
After a mile we arrived at the stepping stones and suspension bridge. "Hmm. Those stepping stones are definitely not an option for crossing the river", Tetley stated firmly.
"I agree wholeheartedly", responded Dad.
Here we met a couple who were doing the Dales Way. This long distance path runs between Bowness on Windermere and Ilkley. Dad and Uncle Bob chatted a while to them and then the lady kindly took their picture on the bridge.
She also asked about us, so Dad explained about our exploits and our website. She took our picture. "Well", said Little Eric, "we are never camera shy."
"Just like Dad", laughed Tetley.
Then Dad and Uncle Bob took their respective pictures on the bridge.
Finally we crossed Indian file, with it bouncing and swaying. "Ooh", said Southey. "I'm enjoying this."
"What a beautiful view upriver. Surely a picture for our story", implored Grizzly.
"The Dales Way goes left", said Shaun, "which will be the way be come back. But for now we keep ahead."
This led to a gate on the left into a field that was crossed to the road. "Now it's right to cross the bridge over Hebden Beck, and then go immediately left beside the beck."
This led through houses and then on, the delightful way climbing through woodland, to exit into the open and reach a signed junction.
"We go left, to Hebden", instructed Shaun.
This involved dropping left over a tiny clapper bridge, with a fenced area to the right containing tanks, which a lady we met a little later told us was a trout farm.
Then to a footbridge over the Hebden Beck that was rushing fiercely over a weir.
Now via stiles and gates across pastures the path climbed to the road at Hebden. We go left", said Shaun.
This took us past the Old School Tea Room, which Dad looked longingly at. Especially so, as a passing gentleman said it did excellent fare.
Coming to Chapel Lane, Shaun said, "it's left here and at the end we go left again, and then soon right through a gate that I expect will have a signpost."
From the gate we crossed the field to a substantial stone step stile, where we met the local lady who told us about the trout farm. Also telling us that there we would have more big stiles to cross.
Continuing with the wall on the right to the next step stile and then across a narrow pasture to a signed step stile. Here it was right across the field to another stile, followed by a ladderstile then a gap stile. More stiles followed to surmount the walls, where beside one were sitting these calves.
Eventually the route was actually right over a fence to then go left by it, but instead we mistakenly kept on ahead, but we still arrived back on track.
Looking back Allen said, "that is a lovely shapely tree."
"I get the hint", laughed Dad.
Yellow topped posts now indicated the route to a gated gap stile by Halfway House Farm, and beyond waymarks and multiple 'footpath' signs directed us to join the surfaced track and so descend to the river...
...where again there are stepping stones.
The people on the far side were walking the path towards them, but wisely did not attempt to cross.
Just here there is a cross of paths, Shaun saying, "we double back left joining the Dales Way again."
Crossing a footbridge, once again the path came by the river.
"I'm getting hungry", complained Allen.
"It's time we stop for lunch, I agree", replied Uncle Bob.
Just a little further we found a suitable place on the river bank just below the path, to sit and enjoy our sandwiches, cakes and tea.
"Lovely flapjack, Little Eric", said Allen.
"And the chocolate caramel shortbread, Grizzly, "said Southey with a look of ecstasy on his face.
Before leaving Dad, kindly took our picture. Well after all we have to appear in each story.
Ready again we walked on through a gate, and here Dad said, "I have lost my NASA cap. My stupid fault for stuffing it between the strap of my rucksack."
"Maybe it is at the lunch stop", suggested Grizzly.
So we backtracked, but it was not there. "It must have dropped crossing one of those many stiles. Never mind I have had it for nearly 20 years and have had lots of use, Maybe someone else will enjoy it now?, said Dad.
So now we followed the good path by the river. "That fallen tree looks like a giant stick insect", said Uncle Bob.
Onwards the path was to lead us the suspension bridge, seen here distantly in this shot of the River Wharfe and so rounding off our pictures of this adventure.
Reaching the bridge we crossed again, to then follow the outwards route to the start.
"That was a super walk, Uncle Bob", said Tetley. "Thanks for working out the route, and it has been so so good to have your company again."
"It is great to be walking again", he responded.
Now we settled in the car to have more of our picnic.
Meanwhile Dad and Uncle Bog had refreshments - tea and nice piece of cake. Dad also bought two Fat Boys to take home, as did Uncle Bob. Rachael, the lady running the cafe, thanked them for being such good customers.
Uncle Bob had done fine and another date had been arranged for two weeks hence, so we look forward to that.
So time to head home, and said our goodbyes to Uncle Bob, telling him again how great it had been to have his company after so long.
