Make no mistake, Blubberhouses is a very strange name. Derived from the Anglo-Saxon word Bluberhus meaning house on the bubbling stream. It’s not a very big village. According to the 2011 census there were only 100 inhabitants. Anyway, that’s enough info from Wikipedia. Blubberhouses was the start and finish point for one of the best runs that me, my lovely wife Helen and our silly little pointer had ever done.
We parked up at the smaller reservoir car park, which was already nearly full as we nabbed the last spot, and headed west along the old road parallel to the horrendously busy A59. Taking it easy, walking the up hills and gently running the flat and down hill sections was the plan. We also opted to go anti-clockwise as there would be a few short cuts back to the car if needed.
Up on the old road we both looked around as we could hear horses, but couldn’t see any. Possibly ghost horses. More likely Nelly’s paws were echoing off the stone wall sounding remarkably like hooves. We soon reached the A59 and took a few moments for a gap in the traffic. This next section was the only part of the route where I was worried about staying on the footpath, however, it turned out to be fairly clear which way to go.
Due to the young grouse on the moor Nelly was on a short lead, although a baby grouse still managed to jump into her mouth. A gentle tap on the snozzle and she released it unharmed. Nelly will be telling her friends about that for a long time. Almost as exciting as that time she found a pheasant trapped under a car outside our house. We do have to be careful around birds as she does have a tendency to lose her little brain.
With only four miles done we reached the high point of our run at the top of Round Hill. This was also where we first saw other people, 3 runners and a couple of mountain bikers. We followed the bicycle tracks down and then up to Lippersley Pike at just under half way round but all down hill from here. Again, more people, almost busy on the fell. A quick selfie with the beautiful Mrs B before setting off again. (Oh, and you might notice that I’ve had a trim.)
A little further and we came across a small house, with security cameras at the gate. We stopped to take a photo of the Menwith Hill giant ‘golf balls’. Unfortunately they are not very clear on the photo, but the track was great for running.
There was a short section on the road towards the larger reservoir car park, with loads of cars passing us, so we opted for the slightly longer route which would take us to the Swinsty Reservoir, via a few sheep fields. Hitting the reservoir path we were immediately inundated with other people, and as we neared the higher Fewston Reservoir the number of people increased exponentially. The car park here was insane. Completely full. The last couple of miles were along the wiggly reservoir path which was very well maintained and very popular.
11.5 miles at a gentle pace, but we were all tired and thirsty. Both me and Helen had been carrying two water bladders, of which one of them was for Nelly, although she did supplement her water by drinking from muddy puddles and the odd stream.
Once home me and Nelly curled up on the sofa while my even more brilliant wife went to Aldi, bought a chicken and the cooked a roast chicken dinner with all the trimmings. One of the best days out ever.