By: Blonde Two

Not only did most of our 55 Mile Ten Tors team manage to complete their gruelling Ten Tors challenge, they managed to pick up a rather lovely team of girls on the way round (it is all in the training!). I understand from their stories that they were perfect ladies and gentlemen and helped each other out from time to time.  Similar things were happening back at camp.

Rescue One – On Ten Tors Thursday, the minibus thing that Blonde One had been dreading happened and we found our Blonde selves slip-sliding around in the mud. The advantage of being girls and being Blonde is that it is relatively easy to flag down gentlemen and ask for help … so we did and got some man-advice and a push.

Rescue Two – Whilst making one of approximately a million trips up to the minibus with kit to take home, the Three Blondes (One, Two and Little-Miss) were accosted by a gentleman whose own bus had got itself wedged and spinning in the mud.  We clearly looked impressive because he asked us if we could push him out – which, of course, we did but not before Little-Miss-Blonde had asked the question, “Why is he asking three Blondes to help him?

Rescue Three – We Blondes can put up with a lot.  However, when our marquee started to flap its wings and jump up and down like a fledgling chick trying to escape the nest, we decided that it was time to seek help.  A quick phone call to a (very macho) male acquaintance did the trick and soon our tent was fastened down with giant metal pegs and a chunky rope.  I offered to buy him a pint for his services but he said that all I needed to do was stand and look admiring … obviously I did this with aplomb!

Rescue Four – Another mud push out by the Blondes and their assembled young people.  This time after Ten Tors finish and it was a camper van which really didn’t want to budge.  By this time we were getting so good at the rescuing from the mud thing that we were giving the driver some most excellent Blonde advice.

A Non-Rescue – Sadly our big family tent did not survive the wind on Friday night and a decision was made to dispose of it.  It is a bit like a parachute at the best of times and the Three Blondes struggled to control it whilst we removed poles and chopped holes in it with my tiny LeatherBlonde scissors.  This event classes as a non-rescue because at least two adults sat in the tent opposite and watched us struggle!  I would like to say that I wasn’t smirking when their tent all but took off the next day … but I would be lying!