Gather together a group of mainly 50- to 80-year-olds in a pub full of memories and what do you get? A rambling set of half recollections which have little meaning to any of the young fell runners who happened to be there. Yes, the Seriously Slow Warts (or whatever we are called this week) had made a very rare visit to the Sportsman at Lodge Moor.
Why, you may ask, had we gone to a pub which we’re on oath to never cross its threshold. Well, it was Andy’s concession to the south western SS Warts for a venue closer to their home, i.e. Redmires. The route included a hole, a pole (in recognition of Anna’s future less frequent outings with the SS Warts), a bus stop or was it the remains of a stable (?) and a coal mine. These were a selection of important places (currently 23, according to Tim) to visit in the Dark Peak.
There was a glimmer of light at Redmires as we seven set off for the very optimistically named Ocean View; after all, we are about as far as is possible away from the sea. We continued over the various bumps and pits towards the wood to find the hole. Having wriggled around for a while, thankfully Chris volunteered his technology. We were about 50 yards from the hole, good navigation by Andy.
Initially, I’d missed some of the of talk of penguins as Anna, now in the bottom of the hole, had explained that some penguins had become trapped in the bottom of a snowy steep sided hole in the Antarctic and had been helped in their escape by some wild life camera men who built an easy sloped snow ramp for them. We peered down into the hole and tried to establish its origin, fancifully, a bomb crater or a quarry, the latter being more likely as it is actually marked as such on the map!
A few more forest wanderings brought us back to the road, about a quarter of a mile, if that, from where we had started. This confirms that we do spend much of our time wandering around in circles and, as if to emphasise that, there was a day-glow tennis ball lodged in a tree, possibly mocking us.
Instead of tripping over logs and broken twigs in the forest, we had the old and well-worn paving stones to enjoy on the way to the pole where we were exposed to the full wind and rain near the exposed edge.
Such was our enjoyment of this warm (yes) wind we continued along a wall, needing more than a bit of repair, before bearing off to the actual Edge and then leaving it for the fantasy bus stop/stable. Here we were reminded once again of our tendency towards spending too much time on photography, it’s really only an excuse for having a rest. We had yet another rest soon after, at the coal pit which was securely fenced off, we didn’t dare go and look any closer!
A rather long and, frankly, slightly tedious trot over the soggy moor brought us back to the car park. However, the thought of going back via the alternative road route was enough to feel that we were enjoying ourselves in our roots in the dark peaty slop.
We were welcomed in the Sportsman by the wife and daughter of a DPFR founder member and legend, Chris Worsell. Diane and Nicky were having a quiet meal until the SS Warts burst in and interrupted their evening. It was great to see them both. The SS Warts grouped in a corner in the newly refurbished pub only to be joined by the likes of Hugh C, Roy S, Mike P and, currently injured part time SS Wart, Tom W, now preparing for his next holiday. The youth of the club also poured in looking bright eyed and bushy tailed, all glowing with youthful exuberance after their outing, I think they were slightly off put by the sight of what the future might look like, the SS Warts!
As ever, we’d had a great outing so thanks to all.
Graham
