Clapham in the Rain with Gladys

That sounds a bit like a book title doesn't it?  Today, Saturday 27th of July 2019 I drove Gladys Emmanuel to the annual Clapham Street Fair - a delightfully English indeed Yorkshire Dales event which included an amazing array of old cars - mainly by invitation to keep out the riff-raff, y'know.

This year was special.  I was on my own (Pat is doing a grandmotherly visit to Gerrards Cross) and it was the first time for two years at least since I had been able to be there, what with the neck etc.  After the hottest heatwave ever in the UK it decided to be a wet weekend which makes it all the more important to attend in support of good people who organise such things.

The predicted rain came overnight so I set off in the dry, which held good for the morning, the about 1pm the heavens opened. Big time.  By 2pm everybody had vanished - stalls, Morris Dancers, even the Cave and Mountain Rescue had packed up - or been called out, more likely.  At leisure I prepared Gladys for the return home just as the downpour intensified to the extent that I considered delaying departure. Besides lacking windscreen wipers and with tyres that aren't exactly water shifters and rear brakes only that much prefer to be dry.

The journey includes the locally fearsome Buckhaw Brow whose descent is just as uncertain and far quicker than the ascent.   Over Buckhaw Brow we (me and Gladys) experienced heavier rain than either of us had encountered in a very long time.  The road was a temporary river but Gladys coped.  Thank you Henry Ford!   We are now back home and my first job was to look at the rain radar on mylocalweather/settle:



The Sputnik in the middle is Settle.

I am off up to the roof room for a medicinal and recuperative glass of wine.  I shall feel complacently warm and dry.  But I shall be thinking about those people who must be out in it.  Especially the emergency services, the Cave and Mountain Rescue volunteers especially.