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1d • 3/08/2020 • 10:39

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23d • 12/07/2020 • 10:30

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Chris Barnes
26d • 9/07/2020 • 22:32

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Chris Barnes
26d • 9/07/2020 • 0:53

From the Photos page

posted by The Safety Officer on 19th Jul 2012

Various races meant that this was as usual a small select gathering but indeed we were honoured by the presence of Mr Tett looking a healthy orange colour following his return from sunnier climes. Also of note, was a new member, Clare, who although new ran most of us older members well into the ground. After the usual initial arguments about where we should be (Doctors Gate it appears, should have been the starting point) and the route onto Bleaklow, the group set off and immediately split into three with TT forming his own group, which was to be the pattern of the run and the rest just wondering aimlessly in a more or less westerly direction. A good run (for our Chairman's sake) with lots of ups and downs which eventually got us to some stones on Bleaklow. We then ran up and down again and found some more stones and then ran back to the cars and to the pub. A wonderfully pointless and enjoyable run!

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Wednesday 8th August 2012 at 9:08am
posted by Chris Barber on 17th Jul 2012

We will meet in the car park at Upper North Grain on the A57 (GR 101929), leaving at 1845 hrs. The run will be lead by Mr Berry. Please note that the weather and visibility can be poor on these alternative runs, so it is essential you come prepared with the right kit and the confidence to get yourself back to your transport on your own if necessary. If you require any further information contact Mark Harvey on 07802587598

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Tuesday 17th July 2012 at 7:15am
posted by The Safety Officer on 28th Jun 2012

Another select few athletes turned up including the Chairman and Safety Officer and Capts. Harmer and Berzins. A new boy Dan also appeared and in true Dark Peak fashion, he was completely ignored! (not true really, he was welcomed into the fold as this group being the core of warts, whom as we know are truly sociable, welcoming and protective to all new members!, unlike some subgroups.....). I have to say that this run ranked highly, even the weather was good if not a little too hot but at least we're heading in the right direction towards winter!! Up Black Clough to Alport trig and then into the Westend valley and up to Grinah Stones where the midges were awaiting our arrival!  From here there was the expected split as the heartier souls went in search of the source of the Nile and the more sensible ones headed back along Black Clough. The descent back to the car should have been via the ruined farm but somehow we came off too early (sadly not for the first time) and ended up in impenetrable conifers which somehow we did penetrate...and so to the pub.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (1) | Last updated on Thursday 28th June 2012 at 2:54pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 31st May 2012

The "alternative" run took place from Fairholmes and in true warting fashion, went straight up the bank through the brambles etc. up to a firebreak above Lockerbrook and into Alport Grain. It was about this time that we realised that we had a nice runner, who was probably a brilliant road runner but hadn't expected the typical Westgatian/Berzins line up the hills!(I stand corrected at the pub last night, that it was actually Clive Last who devised this obscure route but it still had all the hallmarks of the aforesaid TW and BB!)  Ah well at least he'll know what to expect next time (let's hope there is a next time!). From here up to Alport Castles and down a bowel-clenching drop to the pond, which at this time of year is just dilute cow shite. However, this didn't deter two foolish people, namely Ben and Dave McG, who stripped off and swam through the ordure. They were duly shunned for the rest of the run (what has four legs and flies? Answer: Dave and Ben!). An interesting contour line which most had not done before and then back up to the edge. The usual split in opinions and lines occurred here, with the heartier souls opting for the direct line and the more sensible runners opting for a a good blast downhill. As we all arrived back at roughly the same time, we can safely say that there was "nowt in it".

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 7th June 2012 at 4:28pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 17th May 2012

The first official alternative run or the last of the unofficial alternative runs, dependent on your perspective! The instruction was to climb and descend lots of hills so that we could ensure that our new treasurer would not receive a double pertex for his efforts or lack of, in Jura next week....and so it was. The route was up to Seal Stones, back down again to the holly tree or thereabouts in Blackden and then up again to the edge. From here, across to the southern edge and down, damn near to Edale. Up to Grindslow via the manhole cover (which will surely be a checkpoint on a race in the near future!) and then to the Knoll, where whisky was partaken. As night was surely descending, we set off over a hitherto untrodden part of Kinder to the Northern edge to a fine descent. A brilliant evening with perfect weather i.e not unlike mid-winter, so perfect in Harmerian terms.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 17th May 2012 at 9:02am
posted by The Safety Officer on 3rd May 2012

A large group of finely tuned athletes including a number of Penistonians gathered at Blackden for the evening's fun, around about 25 including the safety officer. The run began by stumbling up Blackden Rind and then up to a notch(?) in the top opposite Seal Stones. From here the group set off towards Hartshorne, Mr Harmer electing to take the long route in a sort of semicircular fashion, the real navigators went straight there! A good old-fashioned bogtrot followed over to Kinder Gates via the river and then with the gathering mist and gloom, back towards Seal Stones, the hardier souls taking the direct route, whereas the more sensible ones went for the edge path. The run off Seal Stones to the cars is arguably one of the best descents in the Peak and they've even put a stile and access sign at the bottom, where previously we thought we were trespassing. What is warting coming to?  

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Friday 4th May 2012 at 3:41pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 19th Apr 2012

Let's hope that that we hear no more talk about there being a drought in South Yorkshire! Messrs Westgate, Harmer, Hawley and Barber were the only intrepids to set out on this the foulest of nights for some time.  After struggling across Ewden Beck which had turned into a raging torrent, the run up to Pike Lowe was uneventful just very wet. The wreck, the usual next checkpoint was found without too much fuss and in true GW fashion, rather than heading for home in what was by now, the gathering gloom, we set off to find the Hunter wreck.  Unfortunately, our trusty navigator, Capt. Harmer, in whom we place infinite trust, managed to get us hopelessly lost ('nuff said on this matter), somehow we went in the direction of Howden Edge and on encountering  some rocks and another raging torrent (the head of Abbey Brook, we now realise), we had to acknowledge that we hadn't a clue where we were - some 2 miles or so from where we should have been. Ah well, put it down to old age and infirmity. By this time the gloom was well and truly gathering and very shortly had turned to pitch black. After much struggling in the dark, we eventually found the Duke's Drive and relative safety but still managed to go wrong in the now, very pitch black and driving rain. Drought, don't make me larf!    

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Friday 20th April 2012 at 9:13am
posted by WillyK on 6th Apr 2012

I fully intended to attend the officially advertised run from the Sportsman this Wednesday evening past, not least to support Ian Fitz's Skyline debrief, but with my car having just failed its MOT earlier that afternoon (even more of a death-trap than its driver, apparently - which may, or may not, come as a surprise to those privileged enough to have ridden in it), I found myself somewhat vehicularly challenged. A series of panic phone calls to all the usual suspects ensued, including one to David McG, who I'd be glad to report was happily sunning himself in Majorca were it not for the fact that this particular conversation will very likely have cost me considerably more than I had initially anticipated. Anyways, the upshot of said calls was the realisation that no other b****r I knew within a three mile radius of Crookes was traveling this particular evening to the Sportsman, and it was now too late to make it in time for the off under my own human steam. I was left, therefore, with little alternative but to call the Chosen One to see if a lift might be available to the (now here's the controversial bit, folks) Guerrilla Wart from Ouzelden Clough. There was some hesitation on the line as the Chosen One consulted with his chauffeur, the Safety Officer*, before the response came that they were just passing Crosspool and that I had 5 minutes to be ready and outside. This left me with very little faff time, but much to my best beloved's surprise I just about managed to keep to the prescribed deadline, emerging a little haltingly into the Crookes slush accompanied by a selection of kit and vaguely hoping some of it might be appropriate for the adventures ahead. Taking my place in the back seat alongside Big Bird, we descended to Malin Bridge to pick up Ernie, only to find that he had arrived with Bert in tow (or rather had somehow contrived to get Bert to give him a lift), so the decision was taken to travel in convoy to Ouzelden Clough, the SO determining that four passengers in the rear of his vehicle probably constituted an unwarranted risk. Upon arrival at Ouzelden, we were pleased to be joined by Long John Silver and Cabin Boy Jim, together with the ever glamorous Ms Lesley Ash, all kitted up and ready to go - which is precisely what we did. Up Ouzelden Clough and thence via three alternative lines onto a crisply snow-cloaked Rowlee Pastures, we were rewarded with some stunning views of all the surrounding fells, bathed in the white stuff, and some particularly dramatic skies (Ms Ash was to be heard later in the pub opining on the "four different types of light" we'd witnessed; so it seems we can add Constable's eye for aesthetic landscapes to Lesley's many other hidden talents). It should also be noted at this juncture that, whilst Big Bird, myself, the Chosen One and Lesley all took more or less the natural line toward Alport Castles, Ernie led the rest of our merry gang via a more oblique route to the flags which, notwithstanding his subsequent protestations that said flags were covered in a significant depth of snow, only goes to further support the gathering view that he is increasingly gravitating towards road running in the (early) twilight of his otherwise most distinguished fell running career. Having all gained the edge path above the Alport Valley, we were now treated to the sight of a series of spectacular cornices (for this, the Chosen One assures me, is the correct technical term used by real winter fell-types and mountaineers). The temptation to slide forty feet off the lip of one such cornice soon proved too much for the Chosen One who, demonstrating his leadership credentials admirably on this occasion, first gingerly then with gay abandon hurled himself off the edge, closely followed by the rest of our party (with the honorable exception of the SO, who chose a rather more cautious traversing line to the stile to the south-east of Alport Castles). A little whooping and excitement later, we regained the edge path, with Long John Silver and our Lesley demonstrating their own very particular mountain-craft abilities by spending a full five minutes burrowing their way back up the sheer face of a second cornice, to the collective hilarity of the rest of the party. Once back on the edge (or perhaps this was prior to our first cornice slide?), we briefly inspected the jerry-built hide overlooking Alport Castles - erected for the viewing nesting Osprey, I am told, though this would have been difficult to achieve this particular night as the snow had somehow managed to find a way into the hide and fill much of it three-quarters of the way to the roof. It was at about this point that Big Bird announced he felt like staying out in the snow all night ... to which I quickly responded by donning most of the remaining kit in my bag, thick gloves in particular, whilst the rest of the party sped onward to Birchin Hat. The reddening sunset behind Alport Tower, offset by dark and brooding clouds, was truly one of those glad-to-be-alive moments, which may explain why the option to free-sledge down a second cornice on the somewhat longer slope to the north-west of the Tower was ultimately passed up. Furthermore, as the sun began to drop behind the horizon, the temperature rapidly dropped, so we began to turn for home, wading through often knee-deep snow down into Fagney Clough, with young Jim's superior speed soon becoming apparent on the few occasions when real running became an option. As we traversed out of Fagney - or perhaps it was Ditch Clough - our Lesley took up the lead, showing off her beautifully botoxed behind to full effect, whilst the Chosen One and Big Bird, with the occasional intervention from Ernie, haggled over whether the bearing was 130 or 135 degrees. Fortunately they didn't quibble for too long, alighting upon the eminently sensible solution of telling Ms Ash simply to "head for the moon" (which was, like most other elements of the natural world this fine night, looking rather splendid). It was at this point that I did, I confess, begin to regret not having donned neoprene socks for the outing. Fortunately the running began to pick up a little once we'd crossed to the east of the spur of Birchinlee Pastures, and a memorable evening's running was completed with a fine descent to the plantation fringing the reservoir and, with half of the party finally unfurling head torches, a short scramble through dense conifers to the track beside Ouzelden Clough. As the Chosen One observed back at the cars, it was quite a good line upto about a foot and a half off the ground. A magnificent evening was made complete with two (in my case, three) pints in the Ladybower, with a good deal of reminiscing, particularly it seems about DP dogs we have known and loved, and most particularly about Tansy (is that how we spell it?) who, in Ernie's opinion at least, appears to be the finest fell dog that ever bestrode the Dark Peak. My thanks to my fellow renegades - I'm no longer an entirely virgin guerrilla wart** - though whilst the temptation to join the GWs again may upon occasion prove too great, as maintainer of the Calendar I remain honour-bound to frequent the Sportsman on official nights back at the club. After all, it's hard to deny one gets a superior degree of sartorial elegance at the Sportsman (something very close to my heart, you understand), and I've even been known to enjoy the company of a road-runner from time to time ... * whilst some might argue this title does not constitute a name change, I've taken the view that the SO has been so conspicuous by his absence for almost the entire Wartin' season past that no-one within the club will surely remember who he is ... others (including the SO himself, very likely) would no doubt argue that it would, in the current context at least, perhaps be a little disingenuous to include the SO under the innocent-and-to-be-protected category ... ** having said which, in my hurry to get out of the house in five minutes, I forgot to take my trusty Garmin, which means I have no track to post here and, as consequence, there is no concrete evidence that I ever did go Guerrilla Wartin' ... so if I'm ever accused of having done so, I will naturally deny it.

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Friday 6th April 2012 at 7:01am
posted by The Safety Officer on 22nd Mar 2012

The last run of the winter's warting season took us up Parkin Clough to the top of Win Hill to see the back end of a beautiful sunset in calm and very benign conditions, a contrast to previous weeks. Jupiter, Venus and Mars were visible and the mood was one of jollity and gayness as spring approached. The only notable misery was of course Capt. Harmer, bemoaning the approach of summer and daylight and remembering that we'll have to hammer him up in his coffin for the summer months until September and the start of another glorious warting season! Anyway.... the run continued west along the ridge until someone accused Capt. of being a road runner!! This resulted in a completely pointless detour off Hope Brinks and then back up to the top of the ridge again - woe betide anybody calling the Capt. a road runner! From here, a pleasant descent ensued which eventually took us to the bottom of Jagger's Clough via a pretty woodland path! True warting kicked in at this point as we eventually made it to Crookstone Knoll, although it has to be said that there were a number of "splitters" in the group who insisted on taking their own route against the advice of the Safety Officer! The last whisky, jelly babies and raspberry ruffles of the season were taken here and amidst much grumbling from Capt., we set off back up the ridge in a linear fashion and not the true circular one which is normal on a warts' run. Somewhere along the way, we took the wrong path (Mr Holmes was probably to blame) and ended up running many miles through the woods and then ending up a mile or so from where we were meant to be! But... Mr Holmes had his road run along the  reservoir road, so at least he was happy! See you next Autumn

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 22nd March 2012 at 11:18am
posted by The Safety Officer on 15th Mar 2012

A select group of hearty warts set off from the nether parts of our region near Saltersbrook on the Woodhead Road. A cool night but very still, so no epic but nonetheless a testing part of the Peaks (with lots of variety, Mr H.) We set off up one of the "Small Cloughs" onto the watershed, which was predictably moist and then to the small sheep fold somewhere below Barrow Stones (which we are assured will be a checkpoint in the next club champs!). From here we went to Barrow Stones and quaffed whisky but no Raspberry Ruffles. It should be noted, at this point, that the group throughout the run was consumate in its coherence. In the absence of Mr Holmes who had joined the southern (very) softies, there were no splitters and consequently, nobody wondering who or what that light was in the distance!! After this we went downhill (literally, not metaphorically) and then up Hoar Clough to some extremely moist ground and then back to the cars. We had a drink at the Dog and Partridge, an excellent little boozer and one to recommend!

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it
For the record here is the Southern Softies track, see comments for a description.
There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (1) | Last updated on Sunday 18th March 2012 at 7:02pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 8th Mar 2012

Another epic! We started off in cold but fairly clear conditions, with that sense of deja vu from last week's run! However, instead of the Boundary stones, we battled our way up to Black Holes with the occasional snow flurry to cool us down! From here, we slogged through the knee deep heather with the occasional burst of running to remind us that we are finely tuned athletes, up to Lost Lad. Mr Hakes was now a distant light off the back of the group, so we duly abandoned him to his fate. A fine bit of running was had from here, with a direct line towards Gravy cabin via a precipitous cliff both up and down, warting at its best. Whisky and raspberry ruffles were partaken at the cabin in the relative calm. Berrister's Tor and Abbey Brook were next and about this time, the snow began with a vengeance turning into a white out by the time we had ascended Abbey Brook. Now...a point must be made about a certain "leader" who gave mixed messages! I distinctly heard a mention of Cartledge Flats as the next "checkpoint" and so a group of 5 of us set out for this in the freezing, whiteout conditions and stood around on the verge of imminent demise waiting for the others whom, it transpired had missed out the summit and opted for the easier route (what are the warts coming to?) aiming directly for the finish. Anyway...we managed to meet up with them after some cursing and went direct to the pub, in the now very bright moonlight.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 8th March 2012 at 10:01am
posted by John on 7th Mar 2012

The Southern Warts (or Southern Softies if you must) hooked up with the Roadies at the Barrel Inn for post run refreshment. It was advertised as a "full moon" run, and whilst we saw glimpses of said moon they were few and far between. We did manage a good fast run though, starting through the bumpy bits in Bretton Clough, and finishing up the hill from Stoke Ford. A vast improvement on last year's attempt in zero visibility when we were lost for the best part of two hours.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (2) | Last updated on Thursday 8th March 2012 at 8:35am
posted by The Safety Officer on 1st Mar 2012

A select bunch of  ageing athletes forewent the pleasures of Ringinglow for a heartier trip to the Strines given that it was such a beautiful night, cloudless and mild. We made for the Derwent Edge via the Boundary Stones and Pepper Pot tending to swing to the left as Mr Harmer eschewed the advice to follow the well worn track, instead choosing to take the assembled group some way off the target rocks (oh dear), then down to the small packhorse bridge and up to the top of Pike Lowe, where whisky (but no Raspberry Ruffles) was partaken in the fine moonlight. A gentle trudge through the very moist bog towards Lost Lad and Howshaw Tor. Then a final direct line to the pub, which had a curry night on. An excellent night!  

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (1) | Last updated on Saturday 3rd March 2012 at 9:02am
posted by John on 1st Mar 2012

A splendid clear warm evening for fast footpath running with a top route devised by Moz including Houndkirk Hill, ex- Bull Nose Header (who would pinch a brick?) Unhidden Totley Trig, Hidden Totley Trig, & Houndkirk Hill revisited. The dip in the ground next to the unhidden trig providing a perfect shelter for the Whisky & Sour Sweet & Mars Bar & Winegum stop, before everyone braced themselves for what was surely going to be a long search led by yours truly to find the hidden trig, just beyond the stepping stones at the foot of Blackamoor. To everyone's surprise including mine, it was found without fuss which put us in good heart for the blast back to the Norfolk Arms. They cant be many finer feelings than having a good fast, bracken, heather & bog free run, followed by sitting on a leather settee with your clubmates (well those that can be bothered cross Redmires Road anyway) with a pint of Moonshine in your hand. AM We now have a track, albeit cobbled together from 2 incomplete ones, and missing the second climb of Houndkirk Hill.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 1st March 2012 at 5:19pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 23rd Feb 2012

A run which will surely go down in the anals as a "thank f... we survived it!" It started off inauspiciously by pissing down with the sort of rain that gets into every orifice, the path down Doctors Gate was a small fast flowing river, no sign of drought on Bleaklow. At some point we turned right into a clough and then proceeded to scale an "Extreme" cliff, which certainly set the bowels moving. Penny has cause to remember this for some time as she froze on the smallest of slippery ledges with nothing but black void above and below (Quote: "I signed up to do fell running not bloody rock climbing!") The next point was a pond, 'nough said and then up the edge of Dowstone Clough with the sound of a raging torrent that would have swept all before it had we attempted to cross it, well below. Some daft chough (Tom Westgate) decided that Bleaklow Head would be a good place to visit and so we did and it wasn't, but amazingly we did find it in the black void. By this time it was agreed by all but Tom that we had had enough fun and so set off in a southerly direction in the freezing cold, black void. It has to be noted that Messrs Westgate and Holmes, after suggesting that we follow their lead in the void, disappeared and abandoned the rest of the party to their fate. The Safety Officer (had he been available) would have been beside himself with rage at this gross neglect and blatant abandonment of standard procedure but most of us were too knackered to care just wanting to get back to the cars in any direction. So after talking Maurice out of going back north again, we set off south and, praise be, found the path. An interesting "run" and one which was quite nice when it ended!

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (2) | Last updated on Thursday 23rd February 2012 at 5:16pm
posted by John on 23rd Feb 2012

It made a pleasant change to run in the White Peak. No trudging through heather, without trespassing, needing to climb walls, barbed wire or fences. A trip through the Cressbrook Tunnel was added to the Thornbridge race route where the going was soft, the excrement around the farms deep and the views excellent - it was a bit quieter out there than the traditional August date for that route though. Post race beers were taken at the Monsal Head Stable Bar where the Buxton Blonde and Wincle Undertaker Bitter were on fine form Jim

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 23rd February 2012 at 10:19am
posted by The Safety Officer on 16th Feb 2012

Some 25 or so finely tuned Dark Peak athletes plus a guest from Kendal AC set out on this mild night. The run started with a wade through the upper reaches of the reservoir, followed by a long drag up to Wet Stones, the navigation to which was impeccable! From here we set off in an optimistic frame of mind to find the picnic tables and tin shack which is somewhere in a clough somewhere in the moor. To our amazement, we found it without any bother and consumed whisk(e)y and sundry snack items at the tables, it has to be said that the service was poor, however. From here, we set off to find the Stirling bomber wreck. Now bear in mind that this is on a featureless bit of moor and that we approached it from a featureless bit of moor, so, being honest, the chances of finding a bit of pipe sticking up in the dark featureless moor were slim! And so it proved to be. Search abandoned we set off for Margery Hill trig which was found with the usual accuracy. From here the group split, those that actually fancied a run went down Cut Gate, the walkers went over Cranberry Clough and arrived back much later! Oh and happy birthday to Jim who enjoyed the perfect 58th birthday treat!

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Thursday 16th February 2012 at 9:26pm
posted by WillyK on 1st Feb 2012

A very pleasant run through the snow via the Dukes Road, Fox Stones, Pike Low and the tram-track bridge. Harmony prevailed all night, and the Belgian Blue slipped down nicely in the Nags thereafter. Good to see Mr Harvey (aka "God") in attendance, and young master Beresford for some of the proceedings. A reet good night all round.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Wednesday 1st February 2012 at 11:14pm
posted by John on 1st Feb 2012

Broomhead access gate being a step too far for some of us, we assembled at Hugh's Hut in Stoney Middleton for a run over to Longstone Moor, ably led by Peter Gorvett. An uneventful run apart from the section on the way home when a cow decided to join in. Fortunately a few sharp words sent it on its way. Excellent refreshment in the Moon inn, where we outnumbered the rest of the customers by 3:1.

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Wednesday 1st February 2012 at 10:44pm
posted by The Safety Officer on 26th Jan 2012

A mild night and a good turnout. Moz was to be congratulated for designing a course that even he managed to get lost on, as he (and a number of others) failed to find the pond near Friar's Ridge which those that did find it, did so as a pure fluke!! The going was officially described as "moist" to good which meant that we were wading knee deep through a good portion of this "race"  The checkpoints for interests sake where:

  • the haunted house on the conduit
  • the small pond in the middle of nowhere near the lodge
  • the bus shelter near High Neb
  • the other pond in the middle of nowhere, near the lodge
  • the pond in the middle of nowhere on Friar's ridge
  • Rud Hill summit in the middle of nowhere
  • a long wallow back to the start/finish
My meanderings are shown below!! Chris Barber  
There is a map of this run, view the post to see it

Permalink | Closed to new comments (3) | Last updated on Thursday 26th January 2012 at 10:13am
posted by WillyK on 25th Jan 2012

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it
A game of two thirds this one ... (reasonably) fine to Stanage Pole, then an especially grim bog trot and flounder in search of the third pond of the evening which, as the track testifies, I appear to have passed a good 200m to the south. Didn't stop me getting my feet very wet, and failing to correct the line to Rud Hill (not always easy when you've no real idea where you are). Enough tussocks and bog to keep even the most stalwart of warts happy; and nobody paid much heed to Moz's increasingly desperate talk of lines and good running at the finish. Congratulations to Neil N on another wartin' victory, and thanks to Moz and John for organising the whole shootin' match. It'd be interesting to know just how many people actually found that last pond, mind.

Permalink | Closed to new comments | Last updated on Wednesday 25th January 2012 at 11:29pm
posted by WillyK on 19th Jan 2012

There is a map of this run, view the post to see it
Having declared the tentatively advertised route to Alport Castles "contrived", and determined that we should tackle Kinder instead, Cap'n Harmer (that most empathetic of warts) spotted Andy M's lip all a-quiver and promptly reverted to said Alport route. Off we went then, up a bit, along a bit (on an endless pavement of slabs, occasioning some unpleasant flashbacks for recent participants in the Trigger), alighting eventually at the summit of the Tower. Down a bit, up a bit, some whisky (but no ruffles), bog along quite a bit, down a bit, some fence vaulting, and finally back to the cars via some tarmac a bit. Big Bob, the only real man amongst us, chose to finish with a solo ascent of Crookstone Knoll, joining us all a little later in the Ladybower. Contrived seems a fair description in hindsight, but Andy M was happy, and Andy H glad to have obliged.

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posted by WillyK on 4th Jan 2012

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Eleven stalwarts lined up for a good old fashioned soaking on Emlin Ridge; certainly the foulest weather of the season thus far and possibly the wettest wart from start to finish that I've had the pleasure to enjoy in the past four years. It was evident from the outset that conditions were somewhat awry as young Master Harmer arrived resplendent in full waterproof clobber, tops and bottoms. Having splashed our way around the trig, shooting cabins, plantations and reservoir, we repaired to the Nags Head where the loudest cheer of the evening was reserved for the news that rain had stopped play at the Sportsman ... but I wouldn't want to steal Brother Barber's thunder on this matter, who should be along shortly to expand in whatever way seems most appropriate to him. As a coda, Lewis notes - "An article in the Guardian identifies High Bradfield as having gusts of 93 MPH on wednesday night/ thursday morning. No comment is made on the volume of water sloshing about."   Not sure that I can add much to my esteemed colleague's ramblings above. It was a memorable night and will be committed to the "anals" of warting history.  The highlight was receiving the text from our sometime warting colleague who was blacklegging at some other venue, pointing out that the race had been cancelled due to bad weather (pah!) - a term hitherto never mentioned on a warts night!

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posted by WillyK on 18th Dec 2011

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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.

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posted by WillyK on 30th Nov 2011

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In the absence of either a safety officer or habitual wart-in-chief, it's just possible we never took a head count. Nonetheless there was a surprisingly healthy showing - twenty plus - for a rather longer tour of Big Moor than many of us had anticipated. Possibly by dint of being the only attendee in possession of a 1:25000 scale map, or possibly as result of his impressive showing at the Long Cakes race the other week, Rob Cole strode out in front giving a fine impression of a night-time navigator ... Sadly, his tendency to interpret county and constituency boundaries as footpaths soon proved his undoing, and we singularly failed to find either Lady's Cross or the first Big Moor stone circle. We did, however, acquaint ourselves with some suitably poor ground. Thereafter, navigation improved - in large part due, I suspect, to the profusion of footpaths. Nonetheless, those of us on the two and a half hour extended tour managed to take in three stone circles, a barrow and the reconstituted rock art on Gardoms Edge, whilst the lighter-weight two hour tour settled for just the two stone circles. They did, however, remember to stop for some whisky. Rob and I, by contrast (and no doubt weighed down by the unexpected burden of leadership), forgot entirely to call a whisky halt for the extended tour, so the pint in the Grouse at journey's end was all the more welcome. The track says it all, really. And Rob responds: "I feel the need to make a couple of minor clarifications... We did indeed miss Lady's cross, though only due to Coach Willy's hard right turn upon reaching the wall, I had intended to carry on our bearing but the coach had other ideas. Also, from my track, it seems we passed within about 10 metres of the first stone circle... twice! Anyway, most importantly, for the record, sadly, my own whisky supply has run dry, however, I did upon at least two occasions make my best efforts to remind Coach Willy of the importance of the sharing the contents of his hip flask with the rest of our intrepid group, unfortunately he did not oblige us!" OK; perhaps I was attracted to the alternative line to the Hurkling Stone - a much more romantic spot than Lady's Cross IMHO - and the absence of whisky may have been pointed out on a couple of occasions mid-run ... but it was simply my sieve-like brain, rather than innate stinginess, that led to my own supplies of whisky remaining in my bag for the duration; honest.

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