Pennine Way

The Helm Wind (pause)

One warm bath later, we accepted the inevitable: it's time to stop for now.

The fells round here play host to our island's only named wind, rising from the Eden valley and wreaking havoc on the west side of the hills. The weather forecast say that it's only going to get worse over the next twenty-four hours, so with regret (but a little pride) we're calling time on the Pennine Way for now, stopped in our tracks by the Helm Wind.

(There's also the small matter of the massive bruise on my shin from yesterday's fall and an ankle that doesn't seem to be getting any happier.)

We'll be back next year. We don't give up that easily. The hills will be waiting for us; hopefully the wind will have died down.