Sunday, January 14
Like being a kid again
Out on the moor this morning; getting back into the swing of things. Misty, the sky its usual fifty shades of grey. For once I was not alone, hills dotted with files of Sherpa-like walkers carrying large packs (DofE?). I’ve mentioned before the problem I have walking on concrete in the city, the knackered knees and ankles. Bogs and mires, however, are a forgiving medium. More so today when the ground gave way while traversing a steep slope. You disappear over the edge and curl into a ball, hitting the ground at 60rpm, gambolling downhill at a great rate of knots before coming to rest in a muddy pool at the bottom. I could only get up smiling: it was fun, like being a kid again. I know, I know, hardly the same adrenalin rush you get scooting down the Swiss Wall on a pair of skis. But then I was never Jean-Claude Killy.