It was a fine morning to dig out the old fell shoes and go a Pottering in the photogenic area of Higher Rainow, where, on a day like today the views were decidedly stunning. So it was no surprise to see a fair crop of potterers gathering at the venue in anticipation of what was forthcoming. And the suspense succumbed to a couple of those present for they departed up the lane at a canter, as though dinner had lain in wait on table. A couple of others had left before the mark as well, though in a different direction. This included the leader and a certain renegade as well, hoping to steal a march on those that were to follow. This worked rather well for a while, but as the steep terrain got steeper we were reeled-in till the pips squeaked.
Snipe House, above Lamaload Dam, allowed a teeny respite before an extra effort was needed to witness uninterrupted landscape of the outlying areas. Then, it went down a little to Brock Low, where a photoshoot conveniently took place. Margo, being Margo climbed a wooden stake there as though a monkey- to the amazement of others.
It could have been a spot in the distant past where ancient people did what they did: commanded the high ground and most likely, respect: the men, clubbing about in their loincloths and generally making a nuisance of themselves, while the women nursed their sore heads and, in large crocks, boiled the local cretins who roamed Bollington at the time.
From there it was almost plain sailing back to the venue but, with a nifty short section before the run's end, where the persistent leader had to show those who'd thought they'd almost be back at the cars by then, to see this remarkable old farmstead, which is tucked away somewhere below the old HighwayMan PH.
When the run was done, people disappeared in their vehicles, off in different directions as a quartet made their way to the Tegg's Nose Cafe to delve into some of their delightful offerings. Unfortunately, there were no Boiled Bollington People on the menu so we had to makedo with some boring old stuff.