Geocaches - A whopping one
Rude place name - Joan's Hole
Another weekend.... carefully check the weather forecasts, hoping some relief from the constant misery. It promises that the rain will stop at 9am and they are bang on. This gives me time to finish the latest Iain Banks book and then head out for a local walk found from the www.walkingworld.com. Never fails to provide inspiration.
I know that the ground is going to be wet, so decide to wear my gaiters today. I don't like them, as inevitably, they end up falling down and leaving me looking like Nora Batty. Whilst I am attempting to get the damned things on, the dog very quietly slopes off upstairs and attempts to hide. She's not getting away with it that easy.
Head out for the short drive. I knew she would be fine when we got going. In my rear view mirror, I can see her shaking with excitement.
Park up opposite the pub. Sadly, another one bites the dust.
|Moves me to tears - but the Divertion sign takes you to the Forresters|
|That's the path.... Cheers.|
|Don't look at me when I am like this|
Plans are thwarted when there is a footpath but no bridge. Presumably, the stream is normally easy to cross without one. Not in today's torrent. I am thinking of what to do and the dog jumps in. This is not the best idea. We know she likes a swim but I have a sneaking suspicion that this may have been a suicide attempt.
Decide to follow the steam, not on path, to where it meets the road. Thankfully, there is a gate, so I can emerge. Soaked through and not very happy.
|I am an angry Nora Batty|
|Worcestershire Way, a proper path|
|Good luck, Worcestershire Wayers|
|This is why I put myself through this.|
We turn into Park End and through Burnt Wood. This has the Frank Chapman outdoor education centre and I pass several groups of Duke of Edinburgher's who are looking damp and not too happy. We also have our one and only cache that I haven't previosuly found. A minor divertion and despite having a hopeless GPS signal, a quick find.
|He holds his cache aloft|
I see the problem. The steam has burst its banks and is a torrent, leaving a group of bovines marooned and us with no choice but to plough on through.
|Our path to the car|
|Up to my knees, but had the advantage of cleaning off the dog|