Friday, 4 June 2010

No.316 Of Scouting on the Moors

It's a beaut of a day with two forecast for the weekend as well which is especially good news bearing in mind I plan to spend them in Dartmoor.

I loved Dartmoor as a kid although the mean looking Victorian prison slap bang in the middle of it made me grateful that I only ever visited the Moors during daylight hours. I do remember however one time I was out with the Scouts walking up to Hay Torr when the fog came down. You could barely see your hand on the end of your arm. After about 10 minutes we heard what we thought was the prison siren go off indicating that a prisoner had escaped. It frit the life out of us. As assistant patrol leader to the Badger group in Lord Baden Powell's army I felt it incumbent on me to have my penknife out and at the ready in case a man came hurtling out of the fog in overalls decked in black arrows pointing to hell. The rest of the Scouts appeared marginally less scared out of their wits than me but they hadn't seen Hound of The Baskervilles nor Great Expectations like I had and could not comprehend the danger they were in.
The siren turned out to be the Scout leader sounding his car horn in the hope it guided us back to base. Stupid man...

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