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A lovely day out


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Yesterday was one of those unbelievable days. Hardly a cloud in the sky and a warm sun beating down....at the end of October!!!

We launched ourselves at the dales.  We have found, through experience, that the dales loose much of their charm if that wet stuff if falling from the sky.


Yesterdays "door" was Ripon.  A few years  ago we  had found a road running directly alongside the A1(M) which is almost like the Marie Celest. From this runs a fairly quiet road into the back streets of Ripon, and from there it is extremely easy for a seasoned tourist, or a simple beginner, to get lost in the little back streets or the Bishops finery.

We were lucky again. He was "tending to his flock" as we passed by.

Once through Ripon and on to the road to Masham we were out into a countryside that brings tears of joy to a dalesman's eye. Trying to describe the scenery is foolish. No words can describe the magnificent views of fields full of sheep, miles of moorland, little stream or rivers flowing gently down the valley bottoms.


All to soon we were back home again, discussing our next trip before the weather spoils things.

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Well,   Mr Ho. it is quite a while since I visited Bradford. I think you must know that the City of Bradford was where I was hatched.  I have a sister who still lives over that way (on the line dividing Bradford from Halifax).


I can tell you of a very sad day in Bradford. I was still at Grammar school and I played rugby with a local team. This was because I never got picked to play in the school team.

The local teams used to announce their selected teams in the Bradford evening paper  on Thursday, and, on the Thursday in this tale, I had been picked as Substitute for the local team (so local that their ground was about half a mile from home). Being a local ad-hoc sort of team the substitute usually got to play. So I set off on Saturday over fields to the playing field behind a school. When I got there I met one of the "older end" who was an "expro", with most of his playing being professional rugby for the Bradford team. He was no longer playing but was a leading committee man, and he was the guardian of the clubs jerseys and shorts etc.

"You don't look so well" he said, "Wot's up wi yer?"  I explained that I was recovering from a rather bad cold or a benign touch of flu' .

He suggested that I forget about playing because he would play in my place and there would be kit to fit him somewhere in the stock. I questioned his plan but he would not move.


So ....the match started. It only started because one of the visiting team had a spare pair of boot that would fit my substitute.


Some where just before half time  my substitute caught a pass and set off like a bat out of hell for the other end of the field. It was truly amazing that he still had such speed. He reached the line,  threw himself over it,  banged the ball on the ground........and remained perfectly still. There was no doubt as to what had happened.


I set off at a gallop to a telephone box that was quite a way from the field.  I walked back and the local ambulance arrived almost as soon as I did.  It was obvious that  it was the wrong vehicle.


Very, very sad. But he went out having scored a try.


Many years later, my friend Brian, who is currently bed ridden and paralysed  in a nursing home in Saltburn, was having a silver wedding bash, and of course my wife and  I were invite. As we went in Brian stepped forwards to welcome us, and not far behind him was a face that I recognised as the man who loaned Johnny a pair of boots.  Brian stepped forwards and  said "I'd like you to meet Mr Dodgson."


All three of us were most surprised. Particularly Brian.


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AlanHo   Splendid. I enjoy a dead ending. Now tell us about the day you got your own way with management.....:laughter:.


Alan, You know very well that no husband has ever "got his own way with his management.."


I just pretend I have when she is not about.

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To day is/was the sort of day that caused the start of this topic.

We returned home about an hour ago after "doing" Pately Bridge and Nidderdale (right up to the far end).

It was a wonderful day to do it because the summer tourists were absent, and so were their motor vehicles. It was almost like having the place to ourselves in some parts,

I am beginning to wonder why I like Nidderdale  more than some of the other dales.  It certainly has a charm all  of its own.

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  • 1 month later...
On 12/21/2017 at 10:37 PM, little jimmy said:

Been to Odsal many times Catgate--a long way home when you lose.

From being an infant to being well into my teens I lived in Bradford and only about three miles away from Odsal.

I went to the first Speedway meeting there and stood right next to the Starting pad.

What a noise when the tapes went up!!!!

I lived opposite a farm in the outskirts of Bradford and it was one of the farmers sons I went with. I used to help him with his milk round on Saturday mornings (paying-for-the-weeks-milk day).

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I used to go to the speedway at Perry Barr Birmingham. I don't think it is there any more.


I can still smell the alcohol fuel and the feeling of being covered in red shale dust.


Me and my mate used to replicate it on the local field with our bikes (we were about 12 at the time)

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