Having worked yesterday I thought I'd give myself the weekend off but it started to brighten up around midday so I thought why not treat Holly and Brad to an area of Winter Hill where they've never walked before, Great Hill via Spitlers Edge and Redmond's Edge.

I was last here during lockdown on a bitterly cold winters day where it was difficult to think of anything other than the windchill. Today the temperature is in the late teens and unlike my last visit I'm able to take in the bleakness of the moor while listening to Lapwings under the broadest of skies.

i hadn't a real plan where to walk as I was going to think of something during the drive to Rivington which proved difficult due to Holly and Brad acting like over excited 3 year olds which other than the road, commanded the rest of my attention. The quickest and easiest way to gain Great Hill I suppose is from Belmont Road but I wanted to take it easy and enjoy the moorland rather than a quick hop up to the summit. I was able to park easily next to a motor home whose owners were sat enjoying a cuppa with their two German Shepherds which excited Holly and Brad even more, not sure why because their barking scared the life out of me.

I quickly locked up and once we were out of sight of the German Shepherds let Holly and Brad off their leads to have a run around. Brad sprinted off into the long grass while Holly found some sheep poo she quite liked the smell of and decided to roll in it. Considering that Holly hates being bathed you'd think being a lady an all that she'd try her best to keep clean, nope!

I arrived around the same time as a chap who had ascended from White Coppice who had an aging Terrier with him. The chap asked me how old Holly and Brad were and I soon found it that he had recently lost Meg, his 17 year old Westie and that was it, twenty minutes later there we were like we'd known each other for years sharing photos from our phones of our Westies past and present.

We had the moorland to ourselves as we doubled back and enjoyed the sunshine all the way back to Rivington Road where before I let Holly and Brad back into the car I poured them out some water which they both walloped down at the same time before opening the passenger door to let Brad curl down on the floor and her ladyship sit on an old towel that I'd laid over the passenger seat.

Brad however, soon got up and as always requested the window be wound down so he could poke his head out while Holly lovingly gazed up at me with "it's only sheep poop Dad" written across her face.