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Joe’s ‘Well organised’ Christmas walk 2004
(9.6 miles - Start and finish at The Plough, Bignall End)
Hikers:
Joe Tahoohigh, Yup, Gerben, Mid week T, (2days flex) Graham Cork, Jay Cee, Nigelf, Rob Bee, Son - Tom eee, Al Moorish, Son - Dan eee, Dee Cee, Richeee, Ian Lowe (The Terrier), Steve Machine, Mo Who, Tommy Flackett, Dave Thackerite, Timee, Billee, Chrissy M (less his daughter who has been offered a place at Oxford. Just thought I’d drop that one in.), Paul Hecky thump, Keith's on for it, Pedro, Andy (Lager boy), Ali Gee, Argee Bargee, G(erry)A(ttrric) Graham Aukim, (Barlaston Bird Man) John Skinner, Dave Woods (Boing), Matt (Silver Bear).
Absentees:
Beardiee boy, Ken Spencer, Ken Williams, Chris Tittensor, Triglett, Spikelet, ………………..
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A 9am prompt start was proposed for this walk, making allowances for the short winter days, the anticipated 4 hour duration of the walk, the fact it gave us all an extra hour in bed, common sense, oh and we’re all getting older. Still a shock getting up during a Christmas break though, but the sight of a bright red ‘saffron’ coloured sun rising at around 8.30 am, was worth it alone. No allowance had been made for the pub door being closed until shortly before 9am, so the group began to gather in anticipation outside the pub after a desperate search for car parking spaces. |
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As the group increased in size to around a record breaking 31, it was good to see old pioneer Dave Thacker returning after several years of absence. Also present was Andy, (Van Gogh), who had mistakenly donned his painting trousers for the walk but no one really noticed; and R-gee Bargee (The R standing for Rover boy) turning up minus his christmas pressy of a hobgoblin tee shirt which he was too embarrassed to put on.
When the doors finally opened we were invited to take a seat where we would be served with oatcakes and coffee, mmmmhhh. Mo ‘who’, deprived of bacon butties since his bread ‘ali gee’, became increasingly anxious and could hardly wait for his bacon and cheese oatcakes to arrive. What we hadn’t allowed for was Joe’s oatcake ordering inexperience, despite his many trips to the pub to ‘see’ the landlord. Confusion reigned over pre-ordered and non-pre-ordered oatcakes and chuntering was heard in one corner of the camp. They did us proud eventually though, and thanks go to Joe for his efforts. Well done Joe.
| So, after a couple or three group snaps the walk started around 25 minutes behind schedule. To make up time we set off at a gallop over the first couple of muddy miles which Joseph had checked out. Ali Gee was in top form enjoying the first stretch and promising to be more active in the future. That shouldn’t take long to break. Graham Aukim impressed with tales of his migraines and the 3 tablets prescribed by his doctor which could kill him off. Lovingly, his wife had told him she’d thrown them away. Little does he know that we know she’s waiting to pop them in his dinner one night. |  |
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The pace increased to almost marathon pace to make sure we wouldn’t miss out on valuable drinking time. (To avoid mud like you’ve never seen before, several reckies had been previously carried out on most of the remaining sections of the walk, and the route had been revised accordingly. On the down side, this entailed more walking on roads than we would have preferred.) A short regroup at a lake near Madeley and it was onwards and upwards to the Railway Inn at Halmerend for a quick pint of Reverend Jimmy, or Burtonwood for those less fortunate. Just enough time for JS, bird-man of Barlaston, to spot a couple of grey fronted birds flirting above us. Another couple were spotted later in the Plough, but that’s another story.
A splinter group led from the Railway, passing a wild neck-end cow grazing on the green outside, to assure the landlord at The Plough that we were on our way. As we settled, Stressed Eric assisted the waitresses with the food orders, who shouted out the names from the pre-ordered list. Al Moorish, Timmee etc. The locals must have found this very amusing wondering what planet we had come from.
The meals appeared in dribs and drabs as the ale disappeared in sips and gulps. Hartington’s IPA was amongst the favourites; I can’t remember any others after being persuaded to drink to excess by those around me and moving onto the Jamesons later in the afternoon. Dave Woods (Boing) was unrecognisable as the hairs on his chin grew waiting for his steak, becoming a beardy boy by 3pm. By 4pm he was unrecognisable by anyone, even his own mother, after partaking of several pints of Owd Roger, aided and abetted by ‘Bamber Gascoine’ Matty, who had popped home to change into his drinking clothes. Gerben became a true squarrite, picking up blisters on his travels, downing real ale and Jamesons whiskey, becoming really forgetful, and … er …
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Just as ‘stressed Eric’ was beginning to unwind, the waitress asked if we wanted puddings, aahhhh. A couple of trips outside to let off wind and he was back in to take the orders. A group photo was taken by one of the 2 birds previously referred to, who for some strange reason, and to our amusement, had to stretch as far backwards as possible to get us all in the frame. Shocked by the sight of Joe twopuddingsahoohigh demolishing not one but two puddings in the blink of an eye, they took flight. |
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Mancurian,
Graham Cork lost his soul during the walk, sorry sole. Not for the first time,
he had had something split on him on his travels.
Ali Gee grew increasingly disgruntled as the afternoon wore on. Mainly because ArGee bargee was supping ale and he could only drink coke cus he was driving. In addition he was paying for it !
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| When Joe had finished his puddings, the landlord’s daughter collected the plates and cleaned the tables. At each visit to the tables the polish wore away and her tips increased. Matt ‘finish’ ed his ale and helped out Boing with his Owd Roger, before Boing was further helped out of his seat and into Pedro’s car for a lift home. | 
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As Joe disappeared into the distance, after being dropped off in Cross Heath by Mo, he could be heard to be muttering ‘never again, never again’. As Mo arrived at home he could be heard to mutter ‘where’s me boots, why is Joe’s rucksack in my boot?’.
Well done Joe, very well organised, and an excellent hike. Can’t wait for the Hook Norton trip in the summer??
Yupmeister
