These are Chris’s words not mine. Chris’s diversion into James Bondiism was inspired by my full-length measurement as I lay flat out on the moors but, I wasn’t the only one. There were enough of us to form a small but significant and exclusive group within the 12 Slow Warts (including new recruit, Charles) on their excursion from Strines. It wasn’t that we’d been struck by some mass viral infection, we’d simply fallen down in the pathless and “slightly” bumpy ground near Brogging Moss and Cartledge. The bumps were, of course, the usual ones only bigger, tussocks, deep holes, tall heather, cracked peat and the occasional fallen and prone Slow Wart to trip over. Moz had the special pleasure (see the end of the blog) of apparently successfully crossing a stream only to fall back on the side he’d already crossed from and so was able to relive experience. Lucky Moz!
Our start point had been agreed last week so we only had ourselves to blame or to congratulate, though the details of the exploration had been devised by the Cap’n. Whilst we all agreed it was a tough route, there were some possible mutterings about the degree of the challenge through the high proportion of undergrowth, however, this was balanced by the satisfaction of surviving it. The true spirit of Slow Warting, perhaps? With this in mind at the start, we were quickly plunged into man-high bracken crossing Strines Dike. Noticeably, Louis seemed to stride effortlessly over/through it, ah, the joy of youth! Having hardened ourselves to the challenges to come , we crossed the Foulstone Moor path to seek out the burnt or mown patches of moor for some vegetation relief. We visited the blockhouse, skirted around the dangerous slabs near Back Tor and Lost Lad to reach the high point of Howshaw Tor. Our rather laboured progress so far, meant a change of plan, a not unusual feature of Slow Warts’ runs, to omit the descent into the upper reaches of Abbey Brook and its waterfall. Such a decision may well have been inspired by the sight of Jim pounding on the Cartledge slabs which he continued to do whilst we searched for the path to Low Shaw which we did find, a few yards from it.
And then, a descent to the path around the head of Abbey Brook and, eventually, on an overlooking exposed rock, we saw the mighty trickling, Abbey waterfall. In the presence now, of Jim and as a mark of respect to him whose principle is to wave at check points rather than bother to touch them, we all looked and waved. Job done!?
Even our track on the map (thanks to Chris again), looked a long way back to the Strines pub and it certainly felt it with an unremitting series of series of vegetation types and ankle traps and trips. It was during this moor traverse that Moz survived (see above) his tantalising stream crossing in the valley near the gamekeeper’s cottage. The finale was the very high bracken in Strines Dike which was bravely crossed by three Slow Warts, the remainder having avoided the bracken by climbing the heights of Strines Moor to follow the shooters’ track to the gate at Strines.
Yes, memorable for various reasons and as the evening wore on at the pub, the outing became more and more splendid, what a classic. Thanks to all.
Graham
