Sausage and Stone Christmas Hike 28th December 2003.

(Trentham hills, Hanchurch Woods, Beech, Tittensor, Stone, Barlaston) 

A clear sunny day had been predicted, but with all the rain we had experienced over the previous few days the wearing of gaiters was recommended.  Ali G hadn’t bought his, but was up for it after missing out on several recent excursions. A day to build on. 

Approx 23 hikers including ladies and Rob's lad and 'Al’s_lad_in' tow turned up.  I knew there was a christmas panto connection there somewhere.  Nige (no_el) and Keith P (I’m on for it) were both down with toesylitis, and others were either too idle or had other more pressing engagements lined up, like stopping in bed.  What were they missing out on?

So we set off at 8am up the Trentham Hills from the church car park, nestled behind the Poachers Cottage on the A34.  Bill began sweating and had just taken his jacket off at the top of the hills when the heavens opened up and the snow began to fall.  This walk was intended to be a repeat of the walk of 3 years or so ago when a few inches of snow has fallen overnight, but without the snow, ooooer.  How amazing was that!

A slight change from the previous route took us down to the Beech Farm shop where Richie’s aunt had switched the aga on to warm up a few dozen oatcakes for us.  Spike had picked up the oatcakes earlier and dropped them down to the shop whilst we were still in bed.  What a martyr.  It’s these ‘behind the scenes’ tasks that are so often overlooked and forgotten about.  Thanks Dave.  As for the oven, well, you can’t beat the old fashioned types that don’t work too well.  If anyone’s interested you can still find many more similar models in neck end.

Having put his coat back on, Bill devoured 4 double oatcakes leaving only a few scraps for the dogs.

From the shop we took a slightly different route along to the caves at Beech before returning to the original route again.

Some delightful properties were passed along the route.  One in particular at Barlaston boasted several chained up guard dogs and a manicured segregated footway for us hikers.

In dribs and drabs, we arrived at the Brushmakers Arms.  3 or 4 of us wandered into the bar with the locals and spotted the Wippet ale which was delightful.  So we kept that quiet and didn’t tell the rest of the group who’d headed straight for the lounge.  With the infamous words of Spike in our heads, promising us a great selection of real ales in the Plume of Feathers, we set off after only one pint.  What a mistake that later turned out to be!

Our visit to the Plume of Feathers was Short and Swift.  Most of the group had placed their food orders before we realised there was hardly anything left worth eating.  Pushing in before Stevey Mache, we even failed on the ale front.  The Abbott had run out and a decision to move on had to be  taken.  Even the  ‘boy beardie’ had let us down by not turning up despite the availability of a cellar full of  smoothflow!  Incidently, does anyone know the common connection between Barry Manilow and smoothflow, besides me and Beardie? 

Leaving the lads and lassie to the lager and the potato-less meals, a small group of us returned to the tow path in search of real ale and grub.  The whisky liqueurs came in useful at this point, along with Mo’s Roses and Pedro’s hip flask.  A round of guess the contents began.  I was almost the nearest suggesting that it was so smooth it could be Jameson’s whiskey.  However, it turned out to be a German brandy. Perhaps I’d be better in a curry guessing contest.  Never before had we experienced a Christmas walk where we had only supped one pint by 4pm in the afternoon.  And what’s more, we were to complete the full walk, with no shortcuts or bus rides allegedly.

Into the Poachers Arms and only an IPA was available.  The food was cracking though.  So cracking in fact that a Stone in A Sausage broke one of Bill’s teeth and immediately set off a claim for compensation.  Pedro’S Arms Shortened as he tried to avoid buying a round for the umpteenth time.  Eventually after having his arm twisted, he bought a round but was left that short he only had enough change left to buy himself a half.

Spike eventually joined us at the Poachers and attempted to embarrass the manageress by referring to her as a waitress and suggested further compensation for facelifts, haircuts, etc.  He then munched his way through his 4th packet of crisps to keep his blood pressure up.  The rest of the clan returned to their cars, Ali G hobbling in the pack but ready to build.

Mo had a pot of tea to settle his tum and searched his pockets for his new Christmas phone to text his wife Elsie.  He’d received several text messages from her throughout the day but had not got the expertise to reply. Eventually, after his tea had gone cold, he managed to type out ‘Hi’.  2 minutes later he was cursing as Elsie was sending her replies back too quickly.

There were several suggestions to the SAS quiz that Spikelett had promoted.  We came up with ‘Spikes always sozzled’ and ‘SOS Send out for some decent snapping and ale’.  Spike’s correct answer of Stoke and Stafford had to give way though to Bill’s ‘Sausage and Stone’.

So, the day had gone without a hitch really, except for the oatcakes being cold and the lunchtime stop; the plume of feathers, having no decent food or real ale available.  Other than that the original walk was superb. The snow fall was probably the icing on the cake, bringing back memories of the original walk of 3 years ago, when the oatcakes were piping hot and there was bountiful amounts of real ale and food including real chips.  

Thanks to Spike for organising this one and taking some of this year’s pressures from my shoulders.  Perhaps that’s why my blood pressure has recently come down and my yuppy flu has gone, or was it that I hadn’t eaten 4 family packets of crisps throughout the day?

See you at Easter folks when a hike along Hadrian’s Wall will be put together perhaps by Keith ‘I’m on for it’ Phillips.  Watch this space.