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Horton Scar Lane by David Sykes |
Then came Whernside. Following the routes of those before you was a great help – but when the peat bogs spread out in brown squelching patches, you had to find your own way. Walking side-by-side was not possible.
Sometimes I found inspiration in the hardships of the navvies who built the Ribblehead Viaduct. Other times, only stern self-talk kept me going. There were moments when other walkers’ relentless cheerfulness just plain annoyed me.
The last peak was the killer – Ingleborough. I desperately sought out Pennine features I loved to get through the endless slog. But even Primula Farinosa and clints-and-grykes can lose their charms when your boots rub on blisters.
The last ascent is a deceptive beggar – you think you’ve got to the top, push yourself up a mother of a slope – and find there’s another incline to go. And another . And another. Till you get there.
So you pop a bit of scree on the cairn at the top, celebrate – and realise another ‘there’ is ahead of you.
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Pen-y-ghent Cafe (Creative Commons) |
And that feeling, I am sure is familiar to all creative people – writers, illustrators and many others. There is always more to learn, other fells to scramble up. We are always ‘nearly there’. I hope that thought fills you with joy – and commitment.
A suggestion for you.
Take a breather. Look back over the moorland to rejoice in what you’ve done so far. Listen to the curlews.
Now list ten milestones that are nothing to do with getting published.
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[Thanks to Writer Unboxed for this task– do read the rest of the post.]
By Philippa R Francis, who writes as K. M. Lockwood- and is still tramping.
By Philippa R Francis, who writes as K. M. Lockwood- and is still tramping.
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