It was a memorable walk. Heavy rain saw to that.
Nine joined the leader—she was hoping no one would turn up then she could slope off home before she became soaked.
All arrived clad in waterproofs. The conditions were testing. Many jackets failed, to the discomfort of their wearers. Boots did better. Gloves were hopeless. A pair of Marigolds would have been more useful than the supposedly waterproof pair I wore. Wet hands in winter become cold hands and cold hands lose function— can’t turn keys, for example. One person said that once she’d had to wait ten minutes after a walk for her hands to warm up enough before she was able to start her car.
Perhaps waterproof gardening gloves would be suitable such as these.
The walk was scheduled to be eleven miles but the leader shortened it by two miles because the going was tough. In the morning we squelched through mud; in the afternoon we splashed through streams.
Half an hour before the end of the walk the rain stopped and there was a faint hint of sunshine. This was short-lived.