Today he doesn't want to write much at all. He's written so much in the last few days and he is all worn out from it. Instead he just wants to share some more photographs.
Blob Thing had been on an epic trek. He had visited two reservoirs already and had crossed a moor that seemed to go on for ever. His feet would have ached a lot. Except that Blob hasn't got any feet. When Blob's person has feet that ache Blob can only look at her and smile sympathetically.
Blob and his person descended from the moor and finally reached their third reservoir of the day. This was the Turton and Entwistle Reservoir. Blob thought it the worst reservoir name of the day. He liked Wayoh Reservoir and the predictable song he sang so loudly. He liked Jumbles Reservoir and the way that name had brought him so much laughter and enjoyment. But this one? He thought it was quite a dull name.
Turton and Entwistle. Those two could have been characters in a 1950s B movie about detectives uncovering a plot to steal a flask of magic tea, the contents of which would give the drinker magical powers to control the population without even having to brainwash them through unscrupulous use of national media outlets. Turton and Entwistle. Yes, not a bad name for a fictional pair of private eyes. But a name for a reservoir? No. Blob didn't like that at all, not after the excitements of Wayoh and Jumbles.
However, Blob had to admit that the actual reservoir was pretty special. It felt very different from either of the other reservoirs. It was set in a steep sided valley with trees all around and it felt very enclosed and would have felt very wild and bleak had it not been for the well made up path that ran round the entire body of water. He may not have liked the name but he liked the reservoir and he had to admit that the people who had driven their cars to the nearby car park were wise in their choice of destination.
Blob was tired. It was true that he didn't have aching feet. It was true that for some of the distance he had been carried by his person rather than walking the whole way under his own power. But he was tired. And it was a long way round the reservoir. It felt to Blob Thing like it could easily have been the largest lake in the world. Later he learned that it wasn't even the largest lake in England. It wasn't even the largest artificial reservoir. In fact it was tiny compared to some of the others. But in Blob's state of near exhaustion it felt massive.
Blob later looked it up - because his person had told him that in the grand scheme of things Turton and Entwistle wasn't that big. Blob was doubtful and wanted to see that his person was wrong. He was very surprised to find out that she was totally correct. Wikipedia has a list of the largest 47 reservoirs in England. None of those from Blob's adventure appear on the list. The 47th largest reservoir contains roughly three times as much water as Turton and Entwistle. The largest contains over sixty times as much. Blob would love to visit the largest and it's not that far from his home. He may not be able to though because he hasn't got a car. He relies on buses and getting to Kielder by bus is very difficult indeed. Especially if you want to be able to walk for a while and get back to civilisation the same day. If there is anyone out there who wants to take Blob Thing and his person on a special day out please let him know.
Blob didn't want to write much. He's written far more than he planned. He only really wanted to share his photos. Here's Blob posing in front of the reservoir. [I don't know which is more beautiful, the scenery or Blob himself.]
And here is the reservoir, looking towards the dam. If you're in the area it's worth a visit, either by car or by train. Even on that day, with fine weather, there weren't very many people around.
At the far end of the reservoir Blob felt very, very tired. He was confused too. He had been expecting to walk round the rest of the reservoir and then climb up the hill and wander back to the train station where his journey had begun. Blob's person looked at her route guide. It didn't say to do that. It said to climb another hill, cross some countryside and then climb down yet another hill and back to the reservoir. Blob couldn't understand why they would want to do something so strange when walking round the water seemed much easier and couldn't possibly be less beautiful than trekking into the unknown.
Blob's person was adamant though. They must follow the plan. Blob shook his head and entire body in disbelief. There was a new plan they could follow. A better plan. They should go the easier way and enjoy the scenery rather than follow a plan invented by someone else on a website. Why trust a stranger's map when a better way forward was so obvious? Unfortunately, Blob's reasoning couldn't sway his person from her view. The plan must be followed. She said so. And there was no convincing her otherwise.
Blob Thing sat down and rested on a bridge over the stream. It wasn't the first bridge, the one that would have taken him round the water's edge. Oh no. It was another bridge. It was marked with a sign for a long distance footpath. Blob didn't want to go this way. He couldn't see the appeal. And he argued with his person. He argued well but to no avail. They would go this way. Because the route map said so. Because it was part of an official path and the sign said so. In the end Blob gave up. He knew he couldn't win. And his person was the one carrying the map and the supplies. And Blob knew she would carry him for part of the way if he asked nicely. So after his rest they set off together into the woods and up a very steep hill on a path that was almost invisible.
Half way up the hill the path seemed to vanish. The route guide said it turned right. But there was no clear place to turn right. And no visible path. Blob suggested going back down the hill and following the clear path round the water. But his person was determined. They must go on. And so they did. They were successful too and returned to the water at just the point the guide said they should. And from there the walk back to Entwistle railway station continued without any trouble at all. Success. Three cheers!
It was success at a price. They had lost the path for ages. They had to back track at one point because there was no way forward. They got mucky in a bog. They had to back track from the bog and find a way round it. Perhaps they had turned right at the wrong time. Blob's person started to get quite grumpy about the route. It was a silly route she said. Why didn't it just advise continuing round the reservoir if that's where they were going to end up anyway? It wasn't as if the view from the top of the hill was anything spectacular. Why had they come this way? It was all a bit crazy and stupid and the route was silly, even if it did form part of an official long distance footpath.
Blob's person wished she had listened to Blob. She wished that she had been able to deviate from her plan. She wished that plans weren't engraved so deeply in her head. She wished that such rigidity of thinking wasn't a part of her being autistic. Blob reminds her that it's not always the case. Sometimes she can be spontaneous. Sometimes she can jump in and embrace sudden changes. She just couldn't do it that day - a day on which Blob Thing could embrace the change. Blob loves his person but sometimes the way her brain works can be a very difficult thing.
[1431 words. That's the most Blob Thing has ever written. Blob's person reminds him that he didn't want to write much at all and that it is she who has to type it all due to Blob's lack of fingers and due to them not having the finances to buy him a neural interface so he could just think his words onto his blog. Blob is amazed. He didn't think would be able to use words very well today. Yes, he is totally amazed. Including these words mean that the word count is over 1500. It's 1529. ]
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