By: Blonde Two
It is that ladder thing again; it has definitely been the summer for them. July saw Mr B2 and I climbing a Scottish one, August had both Blondes ascending Jacob’s and Blonde One found me a tor with a ladder as September approached.
Copyright Ordnance Survey 2016
Blackingstone Rock (335 metres) was part of our most recent Dartmoor 365 exploration, and despite my adrenaline levels at the steepness of the staircase up the side, it was my favourite part of the day. None of the other visitors seemed perturbed by the stairs. They climbed them quickly, without making a girly fuss and in flipflops. My ascent necessitated walking boots, hiding behind Blonde One and some very deep breathing!
I do have to say, however, that the views from the top were worth every bit of shakiness. I must have stayed for all of two minutes, long enough to look at each view and admire the rock basins, but not so long that I had time to panic about getting down again.
Another unusual tor that is off the beaten track, but well worth a visit. Guess which one of us was brave enough to stand at the top and take this photo!
Another one for your collection: The Bowderstone, in Borrowdale (Lake District) – NY 254 163
That is a pretty impressive stone. If too many people stand on top, are those below in danger?
Sir Hugh took a photo of me sitting on top of the Bowder Stone. From my comment at the time I was quite pleased by it:
An “honest” portrait, I tell myself, given the well-defined turkey wattles, the leathery cheeks, the way the glasses partially obscure the eyes, and the slight sacklessness of my open mouth. The shirt – an old favourite – helps. Not pretty, not over-dignified but in no way a cliché. A man with a history slightly more interesting than the one I have actually endured.
Briefly I used it – vaingloriously – to decorate Tone Deaf’s home page; then it was replaced by another self-projection of me in my man-cave. I tried to remind myself of how I looked in the open air only to discover that earlier versions of home pages disappear when the details are changed. So my turkey wattles are lost for ever.
Bear this in mind when you come – as surely you must – to write your autobiography.
Autobiographies are odd creatures, I have a feeling that I should read more. What upsets me though are those who write them at a young age, ‘My Memoirs at Thirty’. How ridiculous! I intend to have at least another thirty years to add to mine. By then I should have done something noteworthy!
Here are the photos of RR:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/nzop9wgc5f8pvq3/IMG_1924%20copy.JPG?dl=0https://www.dropbox.com/s/dk60q0fj7s1q4k7/IMG_1925%20copy.JPG?
Let me know if you can’t open
What an amazing stone, plus of course a striking pose from RR!
Alas this is not the photo I had in mind; good grief this brings about all sorts of unsavoury and unwanted associations (eg, Hitler surveying the Eiffel Tower, Mussolini examining his own navel). The photo I alluded to is a close-up and comes with a health warning: Don’t grow old.
Against growing opposition, I am doing my very best to avoid the ‘old’ thing; mind you, am not too keen on the alternative!