No, the heat hadn’t sent us into delirium but we had the age-old problem of confirming we’d actually arrived at Madwoman’s Stones. Fortunately, it was clear (and hot) so we could see other stones to our left and to our right, so we were correct, Madwoman’s Stones are the middle ones. There was a suggestion to rename them as the Mid-Madwoman’s Stones, an excellent idea, provided we could remember. To elaborate further, in the current summer weather, the Stones were warm, if not “hot”, so that was added to our naming thoughts; our dawdling provided sufficient time to contemplate such nonsense!
The prospect of running from Blackden is slightly daunting, via Dean Hill, or via The Wicken or up the landslip valley, or up the bilberry slope, all steep or around Dean Hill above the holly tree. We chose the latter because of its easier gradient. And it was hot, we all carried water in small bottles though Andy had a more flexible poly bag sealed with a tied knot. I think it worked?
Once on the final slope to Blackden Edge, we searched for paths and sheep trods. There weren’t many so we ploughed on through the deep bilberry with no sight of Madwoman’s Stones until we were about 50 yards away (or metres for the modernists amongst us).
The crossing to the trig point has been notorious for many years, on races like the Crookestone Crashout, for its rather magnificent and extensive oleaginous bogs. These tended to be a mainly winter phenomenon which usually dried somewhat in the summer. Our experience however was of complete dryness, no wet feet and wonderfully soft bouncy peat. In our continuing search for shade, there was very little on Blackden Moor apart from the few rocks and the trig pillar itself which cast a human sized shadow and which also provided useful seating at its base. Such comforts!
It was time to return so, at the Edge we were able to see and plan our ways back, one group of two and three groups of just one (the track below is for Tim and Michael). Direct lines can be awkward as I discovered descending steeply through yet more deep bilberry, bracken and heather covered rocks. Also, both Moz and I separately discovered the doubtful pleasure of wet feet as we went through a reed disguised bog (by the way, we do need to protect and keep them damp). Even though it was a long downhill, it was hard work so it was quite a relief to reach the path to the bridge. My effort to maintain my habit of running up to the carpark was a failure and I was nearly overtaken by a group of young walkers; it’s the heat you know!
Once again, we were welcomed at the YBI and we were once again asked where we’d been running, I had to admit it was mainly walking, even downhill. Yes, it had been hot but we had a few rests for hydration breaks. We did it, we survived and it felt good. Bravo and thanks all.
Graham
