Just how many Warts are there? There was confusion about who would be at the start and when. There were the Willy Warts who were rumoured to be coming but, after some discussion, we decided they were not. Then there were the Warts (no qualifying adjective) who were coming later than we Slow Warts, all eight of us, who arrived in the semi-light at Blackden.

We still needed torches to descend the challenging slippery slope down to the river bridge, very much a wake-up call for our ageing muscles. There were, of course, exceptions, these were Michael and, notably, son Louis, both youngsters gracing our group. We soon warmed the muscles climbing up the Wicken having been very Spartan like, bathing our feet in the cooling Blackden Brook. It is a sign of the times that there is phone reception in these parts of the countryside which meant that Roger had to take an important call on the way up to Seal Edge. No worries, youthful as he is, he caught us on the way up to Seal Edge where we tackled the path and its rocks, which were in the process of being frozen. So, uncertain of our grip, we resorted to tussocky grass which simply tripped us up. Hey, ho it’s all good balance training, I think.

The maps show them, but we managed to avoid a few of the many stream groughs on the way to Hartshorn where planetary lights (apparently Venus, Saturn and Jupiter) and village lights (Foolow) were visible in the clear frosty air. What a treat. None of them were useful in guiding us to our next feature, Bob’s Rock but the planets certainly inspired us. We joined our second path of the night on the tops to reach the Rock for a conference to decide the next bearing for our eventual descent into Blackden. In the meantime, there was swamp, rock and bracken to avoid which we didn’t. It’s fair to say there were some narrow trods through them for a little bit of relief.

Our small trailing group of three, Andy Michael and I enjoyed the slightly downhill shelf traverse on a grassy trod of surprisingly easy running which, admittedly, we’d done very little of, not unusual for Slow Warts. Dean Hill was conquered almost without noticing it until reaching the steep descent to the Bridge. There is a long-standing competition between Andy and I to race up to the car park, after all that is how the DPFR Olympics race finishes. So, setting off with the intention to win, I was nevertheless overhauled by Andy who faded just enough for me to keep up, a draw, I would say, wouldn’t I.

By this time, we’d met The Warts setting off, some in shorts, (youth eh?) up from the bridge. The car park was just about full but we escaped to the YBI for nostalgic talk of cars we have broken down in, cars like Minis, Maxis, 1100’s noticeably all BL manufactured ones, even Andy proudly told us of his go-faster Cortina. At the YBI, we also had the pleasure of meeting Richard Cottrel (?) from Hayridge Farm. After he heard us talking about the nearby crevasses opposite the Blackden car park, he remembers when they were tiny and certainly not big enough to swallow Slow Warts, i.e. AH, whole.

A cold, wonderful outing, thanks to all.

Graham

Our route, thanks to Michael

Categories: Warts