Yesterday saw my wife and I, at the invitation of our good friends, Bernadette and Peter, Pounding the Bounds in the small Shropshire village of Rock. This has become somewhat of an annual event for the four of us.
Pounding the bounds has it's roots in antiquity, when villagers annually walked the boundaries of the parish, flattening grass and striking trees and posts that marked the extremities of the parish. This particular walk also serves as a fund raiser for the village.
Yesterday's event started well, somewhat overcast, but dry. Within a quarter of a mile of our starting point, the village pub, we were drenched.
Peter cleans mud from Bernadette's boots.
Although both Peter and I had waterproof trousers we decided that we would 'risk it', bad choice. The mud too presented a hazard, at one point we nearly lost my wife down a steep, muddy, embankment in Menith Wood into a stream.
A Muddy End!
At the second checkpoint a hastily convened meeting, under a tree, decided we should cut our losses and head back to the pub. Our original target of 15 miles being cut to around 6. Back at the pub we drank much needed pints and congratulated ourselves on how well we did, considering.
Bernadette had provided a picnic of homemade cornish pasties. I sneakily ate mine in the pub, whilst the others ate crisps. Bloody good pasties too!
I have told Bernadette I am busy next May!
2008-05-05 @ 10:43