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Notwithstanding young Tom W’s pre-run concerns that our esteemed leaders may not be singing to the same hymn sheet on this one, the evening passed with barely a hint of disagreement, and a very fine run was had by all over varied terrain on a crisp clear night. Classic wartin’, even if no-one – excepting your correspondent – actually made it all the way to Black Holes. There was a subsequent claim that I’d simply misheard Cap’n Harmer’s call at Howshaw Tor; be that as it may, it’s always worth the trip to t’other side of Running Moss Dike, boys ‘n girls.
Categories: Warts