Old men tend to tell tales of their youth, and the Serious Warts are no exception. For those who had been prepared to listen to us (not many, admittedly), we had recounted a recent experience in what we thought were Arctic conditions on the edge of Kinder. However, the Warts had been out and about; Tom W has been exploring Arctic Norway and another (Penny) has the bragging rights for cool weather by skiing across Arctic Sweden!
Instead, we Serious Warts were basking in the fairly warm sunlight near Strines Inn. Our numbers have previously been normally about six but tonight we were ten, including Jim O, Russ, Ian W and Pete G. They were accused of being fair weather Warts, which, of course they denied. Such was the sunshine that even some peaked hats wear worn and, at least, one pair of sunglasses which were much appreciated as we went headlong into the western sunset and into Foulstone Dike. The path there now hardly exists being much overgrown with deep heather. The days of sprinting along at the end of a Summer Series race are now less possible, except, perhaps, for long legged youths, not that there any in our group.
For some of us, it was a relief to leave the rough Foulstone Moor for the comfort of the main track and the less comfortable slabs around Back Tor and to Lost Lad where multiple photos were taken, including photos of photographers (isn’t this taking it just a bit too far, we should be, at least, trying to run?). Photography is taking over our evening excursions. Nevertheless, it was a glorious evening and our excuse was to enjoy it, which we did, though perhaps a bit too wholeheartedly.
On the principle that it’s better to take a rough ground short cut instead of a longer path route, we set off from Lost Lad to avoid two sides of a triangle on paths by going directly, tussock hopping in a wobbling line. The “long” path turned out to be quicker. It was a fine sight to see the Warts in close formation in Sheepfold Clough on the top of a bracken covered geological feature beneath Foul Crag and Berresters Tor.
Such were our en-route occasional rests, pauses (photos) and general lassitude that we were fast running (which we weren’t actually) out of time before sunset. It was therefore decided to abandon our ambitious plan to visit Foul Crag and Berristers Tor and instead go direct to Low Tor (more photos).
Our next crossing was long, involving yet more tussocks over Brogging Moss and past the gamekeeper’s house. We (Pete G, Michael and I) encountered a burnt bit of heather and bramble, a tough combination suitable for fell running self-flagellation, if you’re into that sort of thing (?).
There are at least three pubs where we don’t have to drive to, after the run, though some did, after all, it a was strenuous 20 yards to Strines Inn and it would be uphill back to the car. Because of this we had the energy to reminisce about past competitive glories and what would have been, if only we had run one second faster.
We agreed it had been a grand evening with, for a change, grand weather. Thanks to all, including the photographers, Chris and Ian.
Graham
