By: Blonde Two

I don’t make claim to breaking many records, I can’t run fast, jump high or speed knit, but as a child, I always fancied seeing my name in the Guiness Book of Records.  I think it was probably Roy Castle’s trumpet that did it, that and the intriguing McWhirter twins.  I used to rack (unsure of spelling) my brains trying to think of unusual records that I could break.  Longest time asleep in front of the gas fire was one that I always fancied or person with the most annoying sister.

Well Blonde Fans, the other night, I am convinced that Mr Blonde One (oops, Blonde slip up there I mean Mr Blonde Two)  and I did break a record.  Let me explain …

I had persuaded poor old Mr B2 that it would be a good idea to go up to Haytor and do a quick extra night navigation practice.  It had been a lovely day (back when it was still Spring) and we had been out enjoying the sunshine.  As we were changing into our walking gear, I warned him that the skies were clear which meant that it would be chilly out and that he should put extra layers on.  I didn’t think anymore about it, this guy has cycled around Iceland without me and survived.

Anyway, we drove up to the car park (well past it a couple of times first) and got out amidst the cold sheep and ponies who were quite rightly wondering what we were up to.  I had a nice little route planned out with about seven navigation points.  The wind was icy and by the time I had sorted out my gaiters, walking pole and map, Mr B2 was pulling definite “very cold” faces and looking quite uncomfortable.  I had planned the first leg from the top corner of the car park so we walked over to it and I set the bearing.

It was at this point that Mr B2 said that he was too cold and that I took a proper look at him.  It was obvious that a night nav exercise with all of my usual stopping and looking and back tracking was not going to be a good idea.  So with a quick “I think we should stop” and an even quicker “yes let’s” we headed back to the car, took off the gear and repacked the boot.

I counted the paces – it was seven double ones back to the car which means that we walked a grand total of 25 metres.  Needless to say that, despite the perfect cross car park navigation, I didn’t bother putting the walk into my log book.