I now have a testimony of good outdoor gear

Report on camping trip: It was lovely. I can't post pictures right now because am in computer lab and pictures are at home on Satan-possessed hard drive. They're probably being tortured by fiends with pitchforks even as we speak.

Landlady J hooked me up with all the good camping gear once she realized how hopeless I am. I didn't have a sleeping bag, or a waterproof jacket, or a rucksack, or a tent, or decent walking boots (she lent me something called "ascent shoes"). But once she was done with me I was all kitted out and looking like a real camper. The thing is, I've never had all that good stuff. I wasn't living at home when coolboy worked for Helly Hansen and was hooking up my family with discounted gear.

Here in the UK they sell these little disposable bbqs that are pretty much the cutest li'l things ever, because you're not allowed to make fires at the campsites. Otherwise, you know, all that wet grass might catch fire and rage out of control. Once we got to the campsite we took a slab of rock from a dry-stone wall (shh! We put it right back when we were finished!) and set the bbq on it. And then I may or may not have tried to burn down England when I didn't read all of the instructions and left a bit of cardboard on that shouldn't have been on. But enough of that. It took forever to cook the burgers, and we had to use flashlights to check if the meat was cooked through or not. The campsite was a field attached to a farm, but it was really pretty. We heard sheep bleating all night long.

Also, it rained during the night and for most of the morning, so that whole waterproof jacket thing turned out to have been a really good idea. Half of us (the half with waterproof stuff) decided to go on the walk and the other half went to Chatsworth. Lucky for us the rain stopped and the sun even came out just enough to burn my neck and scalp to a crisp.

We did manage the level 4 hike and it wasn't bad. It took longer than they said it would, but the views were great, especially once the sun came out. The breeze does a really good sweat-drying job, too--I've heard. At one point we were walking up this stone staircase thing for forever and I started really feeling it in my bum and hamstrings. I said as much, and gave my gluteus maximus a pat to emphasis just where the crippling burning sensation was taking hold.

The guy walking behind me said: "Um, did you just slap your @ss at me."
Me: "Huh? No, I was just . . . "
Him: "No, you did. That's okay, I'll take it."

Perhaps in English culture that means that I'm supposed to give him three sheep now. I have no idea.