We cross the M62 on a huge and vertiginous bridge which spans the roaring torrent
of cars in one leap, and it stops raining!
We gaze down in awe!
"Where are they all going?" Whispers J "So many cars!"
"I dunno mate!" I reply equally quietly. "Makes my head spin!"
"MANCHESTER" comments Mark, sharply from the rear. He's probably right too.
"MANCHESTER???" we chorus in complete disbelief "Why hasn't it burst???"
"It probably will" he replies, darkly. He could be developing a sense of humour!
We pause for a photo op on the other side - DISASTER! I drop my trusty camera in
a peat bog called 'Redmires' it is recovered but water has got into it.
The sun comes out and we begin to steam. In fact we steam a lot with whisps
trailing around us as we head toward Blackstone edge.