Judy Moreland of Ty Clwdd turns out to be a major benfactress of hikers. By the time we leave her comfy B&B, she has organised a local taxi to take our bags to Hay, fed us an enormous breakfast, provided massive cheese and pickle and tuna mayonnaise sandwiches for lunch, and given us advice on a handy short cut to get to the top of Hatterall Ridge.
We puff up the hill in brilliant sunshine, through dew-wet fields, pushing through some scrub and bracken and up to the level of the heather. Again we swing up and up, stretching our calves, past cattle and sheep and ponies before we can step out on to the upland ridge of the huge upturned boat that is Hatterall Ridge.
Hatterall Ridge has been sold to us in the guide books as a challenge, an obstacle, a test of skill and daring that must be considered carefully before we embark on such a risky undertaking. But we find a clear path across bouncy upland turf and views that stretch to the Long Mynd in Shropshire, to Gloucestershire near Caro’s home, to the Severn. Bilberry ground cover under our feet and blue sky and rolling clouds above us as we tick off the grave-stone like way markers.
Just after midday, a dark squall chases across the peaks and ridges to our west. Boiling black clouds roll up the sides of the ridge and curtains of grey-green rain and wind catch us putting our waterproofs on. This rain hurts, and it is cold. The world of the ridge around us disappears.
Just as quickly, for twenty minutes while we sit on a cairn and fuel ourselves with Mrs Moreland’s sandwiches, the sun burns out. Then macs on again and trudge more kilometres in the stinging rain, past the 703 m peak unseen as we have our heads down, deep in the weather.
Without warning, we meet the start of the limestone pavement that leads down off the Ridge past Hay Bluff and the rain stops. Hatterall Ridge was easy as.
The sheep cropped downland puts spring in our step, through kissing gates and over stiles, right in to Hay-on-Wye and the friendly embrace of La Fosse’s attic room.
We fall in love with Hay and start looking in real estate windows for our future shared home, checking out the (fortunately closed) second hand book shops, buy books anyway from the free trust book shop in the castle grounds, and spend the evening reading/writing/chatting at the Blue Boar.
We are revoltingly proud of ourselves after our wonderful day on the Ridge.
Day #2: We can do Hatterall Ridge without a qualm or a wrong step: therefore we can do anything.
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