It was to be a gentle Sunday walk in the afternoon sun: enough of a slope to make one feel virtuous about getting up out of one's chair and actually doing something, but not enough to constitute work (especially given it was the Sabbath).

We reached what I considered the highpoint and took photos to celebrate. I would have been happy to have turned around and walked back down the hill at this stage.

But there is something about genetics - perhaps it's true what they say about skipping a generation - for almost immediately The Most Adorable Granddaughters#1-#3 (and I can't say with any certainity who was to blame) sugggested we walk to the trig. This is the very suggestion their Grandpa has made over the years and it is one that strikes a certain amount of fear in my heart and limbs.

Now, I might be a slow learner, but after living with DH for almost 35 years I have learnt that "trig" is not a polite way of saying "benign walk". No, it is usually an euphemism for "the proposed walk is so steep and arduous that you won't be able to walk for a week afterwards and there will be nothing to see when you get there anyway and you probably won't even be able to see the trig and you'll regret that you allowed yourself to be talked into it".

So what did I do when The Most Adorable Granddaughters#1-#3 asked me to walk to the trig?

I stalled.

"How far is it?" I asked.

"Not far," one replied. (Obviously a politician-in-the-making.)

"It will be uphill," I protested.

"Not all the way. Some will be down," replied another. (Um, how can the highest point be down? Good try, though.)

In the end I agreed, because after all, it was The Most Adorable Granddaughters#1-#3 who asked.

It was an uphill climb.

There was nothing to see but a pipe in the ground.

After a little side excursion to view the neighbour's black lamb we turned around and came back down. The one good thing about visiting a trig is that it is usually all downhill to return to start. This was no exception except that cows and sheep had used the track before us so it wasn't always in the best condition.

But we made it. And now I'm hoping my own personal calves (as in muscles) won't hate me tomorrow.