The weather continues to dominate these daily updates, but not always for the same reasons.
When I set off this morning it was very déjà vu. The sort of intense fine rain which feels like standing in a shower, and can drench in minutes. Full waterproof gear then, dry inside regardless, but I didn't actually see much of Burnley on the way through.
Four miles on, just past the village of Fence, the rain stopped, and just a short way further there was a line of brightness across the sky.
Could this be the end of the gloom and damp which had ruled since Saturday?
I headed towards Sabden, having given up any hope of walking on Pendle Hill, and the sun came out. That's right, the sun. Views of misty murky places suddenly gave way to clear vistas.
I was joined for a while by an elderly chap walking to Sabden, cheerful enough but full of advice I didn't really need, and making it difficult to pause to capture the happy scenes on camera. He left me before I began the long road climb up to the Nick of Pendle, a little twisting pass over the western slopes of the main hill, with views getting better with every upward step.
On the other side the long descent to Clitheroe was sunny, green, almost summery but for a keen wind.
Clitheroe, population about 16,000, is a bustling little town, rated several times by one major newspaper as the best place in Northern England to live. It has some fine old streets, and the keep of a 12th century Norman castle.
It also has a large supermarket where I could buy some lunch...
I headed west, crossing the Ribble at Edisford Bridge. The current stone bridge of nine arches is of uncertain date, but there has been a bridge here since the 14th century.
After the bridge, the half dozen or so miles left of today's journey don't stand out for stunning scenery, although in the sunshine it all looks great. There are some good retrospective views of Pendle, and some glimpses towards Waddington Fell to the north and Longridge Fell to the west.
After what felt like a long slog, actually only about three miles, I passed through the hamlet of Bashall Eaves, complete with pub, then a little further, by the twin lodges leading to 17th century Browsholme Hall, came the first real glimpses of the hills of the Forest of Bowland, tomorrow's agenda.
Those hills came ever closer as I passed through the hamlet of Cow Ark, perhaps appropriate, as further up the hill I saw the largest number of black and white cows I think I've ever seen in one field. Naturally some came for a closer look at this strange creature carrying a backpack.
The final hill gave a lovely view into the valley ahead, where sits the ancient inn where I'm lodged for tonight.
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