
So, one moonlit evening I headed out from the centre and ran up hill for an hour: battled upwards through water pouring off the hill down submerged lanes, then fields of thistles, sheep, sheep shit, mud, barbed wire to the bracken line, then slipped and slid up the diagonal track in the picture on the right to the the ridgeline.
There were amazing moonlit views once I could actually stand upright and breath with patches of mist hanging in the valleys and lights twinkling in my sweat filled stinging eyes.
The return journey was an out of control stagger/slide down to the road rewarded later with a pint of 'Butty'.