WW 25th November 2009

It was hailed as The March of The Seven Summits

Except it wasn't a march

and there weren't any summits

But hail there was. Suddenly.

And then there wasn't, either.

An iron-barred potato cave.

And a restored cross, surprisingly

looming out of the darkness.

For we fifteen.

And a picture of ....boots.

Well...crazy, really.

WW 18th November 2009

Yet more surrogacy
Yet more overcrowding
Soon we will need to book slots on the Moor
But undaunted out the bold strode
Round to the quarry where the goldfish isn't
Not over Pew Tor
Certainly not to Vixen Tor
Not into Merrivale Quarry
No Beaujolais Nouveau to drink
(Although the label was very pretty)
But certainly to the busy Whitty
For beer and free crisps

WW 11th November 2009

It's Wednesday, 7 p.m., dark, tipping it down,
overtrousers on in the house weather...
So, what to do?
Why, go for a walk.
So do the stalwarts
out to Bennett's Cross
and for the first time we are led
by properly trained navigators
out to Birch Tor and on round the circuit.
And what did the weather do?
Why what else,
the rain ceased and the stars came out
so we chatted and drank tea by starlight
and made our way back to the Warren House for a cooling pot.

WW 4th November 2009

Cars shoehorned into the quarry,

off we went,

the First Eleven,

(actually, the only eleven that night.)

All the intended targets were hit

unerringly, bang on.

Ace navigation

by the so modest navigator.

grave......White.....stone….circle…..(bog)….gate…gate…cars.

The weather and the moon performed well, too.

So did the Peter Tavy Inn.