by Elizabeth Fearon

Created on: January 20, 2010

“…And they promised me cake!”

 On a beautiful sunny morning in February, seven intrepid members of Woodvale Ladies Circle embarked in two cars on a day’s hiking around Rivington Pike near Bolton.  The group ranged from those hardened veterans of the fells complete with walking boots and encrusted socks, to those who had forgotten their plastic carrier bag on which to park for lunch.  Armed with backpacks and routes and oh so much enthusiasm, the group bounded forth on a picturesque walk of about seven miles in the kindest of weather. 

 As ever, philistine that I am, the beauty of nature can always be improved upon when viewed from behind a large cappuccino and an even larger slice of cake, therefore I was delighted when an early pitstop was suggested at a local tearoom.  The delight waned when I was restrained from devouring a jam and cream scone to die for to refrains of ‘It’ll be lunchtime soon’ and ‘The calories will hamper your progress!’.  Shamed into abstinence, the hot chocolate I was allowed was further sweetened by our female scrutiny of a manly group of cyclists seated invitingly at the next table.  We were nearly reduced to a sixsome when one of our number attempted to conceal herself on the nearest pair of handlebars but she was brought back to reality with another hour’s hiking until lunch.

 The miles passed easily amidst the chatter and camaraderie of fellow circlers and so we progressed to lunch, eaten on a hillock overlooking a delightful vista.  The intellectual nature of the conversation was rudely shattered when our great and glorious leader discovered that perhaps she had not chosen the most desirable patch on which to offload her backpack.  The realisation that her wet straps were not due to a leaking drink carton but to an offensive pile discarded by an untethered animal, (hitherto unseen by the rest of us as Anne had so thoughtfully covered it from sight with her own possessions) brought forth a verbal barrage that very aptly concluded into what her backpack had been put!  Naturally the rest of us leapt to her aid, each one eager to assist our leader in her hour of need – NOT!  Circlers were in fact to be seen leaping in the opposite direction, helpless with laughter and unable to muster a ‘Wet One’ between them.  It’s good to know that the spirit of friendship and service lives on!

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