By: Blonde Two

Dartmoor Rescue – Blonde Two’s Story

Wednesday night saw the Two Blondes facing a terrible and rather worrying separation.  We arrived at Shipley Bridge to meet the amazing guys from Ashburton Dartmoor Rescue (they train every week in all weathers) to be told that Blonde One was about to sprain her ankle while out looking for her lost sister (me).  I was about to suffer stab wounds at the hands of my misled brother Adam who, convinced that I was possessed by the devil, had taken me up onto the moors to a ruined (very ruined) chapel to do the dastardly deed.

Now, you need to know two things here – the first is that I am quite a fearful soul and the second is that not only does the chapel really exist, but its grid reference is 666 666.  You couldn’t make this up could you – except of course that somebody (clever chap) did.  We received our instructions on a piece of paper upon arrival and I spent the walk up to the chapel (leaving Blonde One behind on the way) rehearsing my lines (as I was going to be semi-unconscious, these were a bit monotonous)!

Luckily for my nerves, we both had lovely Dartmoor Rescue blokes as our minders and chatter about stars and travel allayed my fears.  The walk up to the chapel was boggy (it had frozen over by the time we walked back down) and when we got there (lovely spot) I was warm for a while.  The chill soon started to set in however and despite donning extra layers and sipping warm tea, I could feel that I wouldn’t be able to hold the shivers off for too long.

Blonde One was injured on the hillside opposite and the teams got to her first.  It was fascinating to watch the torches criss cross the hillside as they extended their search and fetched a stretcher for Blonde One.  The exercise was made more scary by the idea that my brother “Adam” had disappeared after stabbing me and was presumed to still be out on the moors.

I have little concept of how long we stood waiting to be found.  It seemed to go quickly and take ages in equal measure but I did start to get a feeling for what it would be like to be lost and cold out on the moors.  Eventually torches were seen flashing up the hillside towards us and the game was on.  I will tell you more tomorrow but for now imagine the scene – shivery Blonde, dark scary chapel, cold stone slabs … and … don’t look behind you because nobody knows where Adam is …