Out gallivanting today... Church Stretton. After spending time with someone there a week or so ago, I thought it would be a good place to take my wife for a walk. Some lovely roads to drive on. (some terrifying roads from Bren's point of view. one in four descent made to a soundtrack of whimpers! white knuckles against the door grab handle...)
And some gorgeous scenery to see.
We got there early afternoon, and headed up onto the moors. One thing we didn't count on was the wind, which was almost strong enough to blow the sheep over. Went to what appears to be called Cardingmill peak. The wind was incredible. You could lean right back into it and really feel the air supporting you! If I'd unzipped my coat and spread it out, I reckon I might just have taken off.
Pissing in the wind.
When you do piss in the wind, it's best to have the wind behind you and your legs well apart. In a gale, be aware that as soon as it leaves the lee of your body, and gets caught by the airstream, your piss will stop being a steady stream. It will instantly become an atomised spray that can be carried for hundreds of yards. Therefore pissing in the wind is best done with nobody, absolutely nobody, and especially not a big bloke with tatooes on his knuckles, standing downwind of you.
We scrambled down the side of the hills to the valley below. The valley below is a big national trust thing, with a pay and display car park, and a café and shop. A cup of tea, a bit of flan, a bowl of soup, 2 slices of cinnamon flapjack, and a yoghurt bar set us back £17. For a good cause I suppose, but pretty bloody steep, just the same.
Talking of steep, the way back up the road to the car was indeed, steep. It was much less scary on foot than it was driving. But more strenuous.
We saw a bloody enormous bird of prey, that I reckon might have been a Red Kite, and when we got back to the car, it started pouring with rain, if you can call something horizontal, "pouring", so perfect timing there! Hurrah!