By: Blonde Two
I had a bit of a moment on Day Two of my Welsh expedition with Running Girl.
There was I, standing on my own in the middle of a high frozen bog, watching the daylight disappear and wondering how on earth I was supposed to judge how far I had walked along a track when:
a) The track wasn’t there any more.
b) Dragging my feet out of endless bog puddles meant that all my usual timing judgements were out.
c) Staggering from side to side in the bog meant that all my usual pacing judgements were out.
It was one of those, ‘I am completely inadequate’ moments that we girls get. I have no idea if boys get them or not, but they are are probably less likely to talk about them if they do. I remember starting to compose a blog post entitled ‘The Inadequacies of Being Blonde’ in my head, when my moment overtook me, and all I could do was cry.
The tears were at least warm and I think there were only about five of them before Running Girl came back from her, “I’m just going run and see what is over that hill” mission.
There really was only one solution to the situation. Some people need chocolate, some people need alcohol, some people need coffee; I knew exactly what I needed! It is a tried and tested cure; so all I said to Running Girl was, “You need to give me some Jelly Babies, they are in my top rucksack pocket!”
This was, of course, entirely the wrong place for the Jelly Babies to be. They should have been in my jacket pocket and I should have started eating them about an hour before the tears.
They worked (who would have doubted the little fellows) and after RG stuffing about five in my mouth (nobody likes a crying bog-friend!) I recalled that I knew how to do a resection (a canny ground/compass/map manoeuvre), I had worked out that we would be back on solid ground before dark and I had remembered that actually I was completely and utterly adequate!
What wondrous Blonde medicine Jelly Babies are. I don’t know if it is their sugar content, their lovely colouring or their cheeky grins. Don’t leave yours at home!!
Years ago I was papering a ceiling on my own at home. I fell off the step ladders and landed heavily on my shoulder and experienced the most pain I can ever remember. In a sort of trance I got up and marched out of the house onto the adjoining golf course and continued marching for ten minutes or so, then suddenly sat down on the fairway and burst into tears.
Pete and I have Jakeman’s blackcurrant chest and throat lozenges
http://www.jakemans.com/home.ashx
which have similar miracle properties to jelly babies. We have a competition to see who can make them last longest. After walking for an hour or so we also have a competition to see who can get nearest to telling the exact time.
I like that competition idea! Instead of judging distance by time, we could do it by Jelly Baby. Would red ones last longer than green ones I wonder?
There was clearly a gart at work, doing its best to discourage you. Of course, bog garts are the worst of the species and know exactly how to magnify those “I can’t cope” feelings. Always remember that tears only add to the bogginess of the bog. Clearly jelly-babies are a potent weapon against bog garts.
Maybe the bog wasn’t a bog until lots and lots of women stood in the middle of it and cried! Babies versus Bogarts!
I think I need to know about resections – this could save me from my own melt down moments!
It takes a bit of practice to gain confidence with a resection, but Dartmoor is a good place to do it. Pinpointing your location along a linear feature (path, leat, wall etc) is the simplest thing to try. So for example, you could stand on the Princetown railway line, line your compass up towards the North Hessary Tor Mast and plot a line. Where your line and railway intersect would be your location. We’ll show you sometime … a more advanced workshop than the ones planned for this summer!
What about the effect of the railway line on the compass?
You would be more worried about the train if it was that sort of railway line. This one hasn’t had rails for a very long time! Great article about it in this spring’s Dartmoor Magazine! Almost as good as our article about Dartmoor navigation …