The title of this blog should be fairly self-explanatory. As my website testifies I love walking. At the same time anyone who knows me personally will also know that I am a fairly unashamed eater of meat, my favourite meal is still a traditional roast beef served with yorkshire puddings and lots of horseradish sauce. So I love walking, I love beef but as the title says I hate cows. More specifically I hate coming across cows when I'm out walking as quite frankly they scare the crap out of me!
Black Fell in the North Pennines when I was confronted with a field with some cows in it. Now because of my bovinephobia I stood a while contemplating going the long way round via a road. In the end I decided to 'man up' and face my fear, though I still tried crossing the field whilst staying as far away from them as possible and with my eyes averted in order to cause the least offence. I got to within 15 metres of the gate on the far side when they just started to run towards me. I certainly wasn't going to wait and ask them what they wanted so legged it to the gate which I then hit at high speed, flipping me over and landing me on my back on the far side. Thankfully there was no one around to have seen my spectacular vault over the gate nor the subsequent hand gestures I made at the vicious brutes once I realised I was safe. It was more than my pride that was bruised though, I had a sore shoulder for a week and a bruise up the whole of my right shin which lasted about a month.
in the upper reaches of Colsterdale and Nidderdale I was crossing a field full of cows and calves. A small group of calves decided to check me out so the mummy cows followed to keep an eye on them. Within seconds I had cows heading towards me from all directions so I clambered up on to the nearest drystone wall for safety only for all the cows in the next field to come and check me out as well. I stood on that wall for almost 5 minutes completely surrounded before I plucked up the courage to jump off and make a dash to the nearest gate and safety (fortunately I got over this particular gate without any mishaps). On a more recent occassion I can remember being tracked by a young cow, which kept calling back to the rest of the herd, for over 400m across open fellside before it eventually gave up and left me alone.
on the summit of Fellbarrow in the Lake District. It was stood just yards away from the trig point. I'm still rather proud that I plucked up the courage to go up to the trig point and take some photos but to be truthful the bull barely moved, it seemed to be too engrossed in the view across the Vale of Lorton to the North-Western fells to have
any interest in me, and to be honest who can blame him. It should also be said that I've had very little problems with 'hairy' breeds of cattle such as the Galloway, Belted Galloway or Highland cows, all of which can today be found on the high limestone pastures of the Dales, particularly around Malham and in parts of Ribblesdale.