Lights strung out in a chattering chain.
Winding through gorse and swerving round rocks
Sticks tip, tap, tip, tap, tippety tap.
First brief halt at Innominate Tor.
(What’s it called? Who knows!)
Off again – no slacking.
Wheezing and creaking
Leaning into the incline to Cox.
What a view (that was).
Plunging down.
Gathering speed for the long pull up Staple.
Up and up and up and HALT!
Refreshments.
Down again, stretching out along the leat
And catapulted up to Pew.
An involuntary dog leg and squeal to a halt.
Then cars and the Whitty – hooray!