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Skipton With Gareth

Methinks ‘twas Skipton in our sights

When Nigee fell afoul

Of big bad storm named Gareth

As gales about did howl

His corn was really painful

His boots were prone to leak

But like a super trooper

Of this he’d hardly speak

With puddles he was wary

Side-stepping in the mud

But then to earth he’d tumble

With an almighty thud

At hotel stop he’d had enough

His ribs just wracked with pain

And so next day we headed home

With plans to walk again.







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