Ow Do? (From York Press)

Ow Do?

11:03pm Wednesday 11th July 2007

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Ouch, my aching legs..!

I walked up and down Pen-Y-Ghent on Sunday and it is now 3 days since I finished the actual walk. I last walked up and down that hill when I was 15 years old, and the Pennine Way had only been open for a couple of years. The climb then was up a steep and slippery hill, while carrying a 50lb rucksack, and by the time I got down I was hoping someone would steal the rucksack so I could go home.

It was a lot easier this time with a clear, if rough, path. Although there was still enough boggy earth around to make sure the walk was challenging and there was "evidence" of your efforts on your boots and legs.

Amazing how many people passed by as we paused on the top of the hill to allow stragglers to catch up (and yes I was surprised that I wasn't at the back). Also amazing how everyone passes the time of day up there too. So friendly, so cheerful, so old fashioned, it reminded me so much of the England and the North Yorkshire village I grew up in. As a child I knew almost everyone in the Strensall, via the Church, the Chapel, the School, the paper round, the football and lastly from just walking about and chatting with people whose faces you knew because they were always there.

A few years ago I walked around the local churchyard and there were the names of many of the people I knew as a child. The Marshalls who used to manage the Post Office, Mr Ridgeon, my Father and many others. It was like a time warp and I remembered the place as it used to be, with many hellos and even more "Ow do's" and "Na'then's" and "Aaa reet's". In the village then, people didn't walk past each other without speaking, even if they didn't really know each other, because that was rude.

Standing on top of Pen-Y-Ghent it was clear that people who walk those challenging walks feel the same. They wouldn’t just ignore a fellow traveller, making the same sort of effort, sharing the same challenges and the same fantastic views.

I even found myself slipping back into my childhood dialect and gently greeting passers by with “Ow do”?

Strange how back down the hill, where there were more people and there was less shared toil, the greetings were more strained. I confess I can’t wait to get back up there and if you see me don’t greet me with a “Good Morning”, just ask me “Ow do”?