After a hard (for me) two hour run on Saturday, I’m taking two days’ rest.
So I decided to walk up Cornwall’s second highest hill Roughtor (400m elevation, no sniggering at the back please) which is very nearby.
It was also a chance to try the trekking poles my son gave me for Christmas. They’re not so much to help me uphill but to help me down rocks and crags which scare me.
There was a bitter easterly wind blowing at the top but the rocks are so magical at the top. You can understand where all those legends of giants making these formations come from.
There used to be settlements up here. Tough lot in those days but spotting your enemies from up high took precedence over comfort.
A great morning out but I’m still very wary of getting down those rocks, poles or no poles.