Our Cap’n may have resigned from most of his race organising but he can, and, no doubt will, continue in his quest to find more Harmerian and interesting Wednesday night challenges for the Slow Warts. Our quite adventurous outing from Birchin Clough was no exception. Even the weather played its part by misleading us to think it would be a warm May evening, as in Sheffield, only for us to find strong wind and rain which, of course, prompted a serious rethink of what to wear, if, indeed, there was any available choice in our kit bags. So, a collection of mildly eccentric emergency kit was cobbled together to set the fashion for the evening.
Often, we have a seriously steep start for Warts’ adventures, e.g. Priddock Wood, Crookestone or Westend but instead, a gentle downhill amble took us through the woods to the open country behind the former Snake Inn. However, having warmed up a little, we crossed Oyster Clough for the climb towards Cowms Rocks only for us to continue around the edge about northwards before recrossing the clough to the splendid Oyster Cabin. Here the comfort of the shelter from the wind and rain seemed to extend our time there, with the reporting of our ten names and discussions about the fine repair of the roof, and, there was even some reading matter, rather incongruously, a railway magazine.
Our lingering over, we took to the moors towards the Alport valley and down to the Scout Stone and the litter of the scattered supports for the protection of young saplings some of which were outgrowing their confining plastic tubes. The mention of now heading for the river brought out the choristers in the group with various river songs, Old Man (very relevant), Cry me a river…………. Fortunately, this cat-a-wauling quickly stopped as we actually reached the Alport River and followed it upstream passing two ruined sheepfolds and a very simple one-man or one-sheep shelter. As always, the now retired RO suggested one or other of them could be a check point for future races. Continuing up the ever-narrowing valley we passed over waterfalls which provided some ice skating (without skates) on mossy rocks and slippery mud, threatening to give us a fashionable cold water dunking experience. This, however, turned out to be only a practice run (?) for our subsequent scaling of one (Nether, I think) of the very narrow Reddale Cloughs.
The lines taken up the clough were varied and gave us the opportunity for the occasional glimpse of whole lives flashing in front of us as we grappled with and hung on to flimsy reed, moss, heather and loose rock handholds whilst feet were slithering in the stream, in our fight to exit from the clough. We did however escape on to the moorland for a well-earned rest in the evening sunshine. Yes, the weather had now become balmy, extraordinary!
In the wide-open featureless moorland spaces now facing us, an accurate bearing was needed to get us back to Birchen Clough. Two were announced, one was followed by Tom and the other by the remaining herd until the shout went out for “A bit more to the right is needed” by which time Tom was on the path and nearly at Birchin. The sting in the tail of this adventure was the descent to the car park which included a wobbly stile, tree roots, mud and, surprisingly, some awkward steps with built in trip hazards. I think everybody did arrive back in one or perhaps two pieces, well enough to make it to the Yorkshire Bridge for a scintillating analysis of the evening.
There is no doubt that the standard for the Slow Warts’ outings has been spectacularly maintained for this adventurous outing. Wonderful!
Graham
Photos from Mike Griffiths – possibly in chronological order
