Princess Risborough to Wendover 29/12/2001

Because of the cunning deployment of two separate e-mails by our leader - one correcting the other, we managed to officially assemble twice at Marylebone. One group(8) for the 0940 train, the other (6 trusting souls) who had not checked for updates, were relegated to the 1010.

The first group was evidently in good spirits. One of our number ( shameless and nameless ) took Hope, a jolly person of the female gender, from an entirely different walking group, whose object was to do a round walk from Wendover, and whom he had 'chatted up' at the ticket office and apparently gave such an alluring account, either of himself or of our mysterious doings, that he managed to 'capture' her for our outing!

There was another small glee when we discovered (and confirmed with the man in the booking office) that we could have our trip for a cheap day return to Aylesbury (£7.65 in non-Euro currency - future users may like to note) instead of the more convoluted and costly option involved in buying singles for the separate railway services.

We had a jolly, warm and timely trip up and collected another half dozen at Princess Risborough (enthusiastic exchanges of kisses for the lucky ones and and belated Christmas Greetings for the rest) and we set off at a merry clip into a grey morning with light snow falling.

By the top of the first steep ascent, both our breathing and the snowfall had become appreciably heavier. We hovered over the fine non-existent view back over Princess Risborough whilst pondering whether to 'zip up' against the wind whipped feathery blast or to unzip to cool off. The bench at this vantage was completely covered with precipitate which thwarted any temptation to bask and recuperate legs shaky from Christmas inertia. Contemplating this, Josephine thoughtfully sculpted a pair of adjacent bottoms on its surface to express our collective longing to have sat there if we could - and probably also as a subtle invitation to the pursuing lay-a-beds to not tarry either but to do something else with their 'butts'.

Warned by our leader of the potential danger of getting 'whited out' and lost in this upper wilderness, some of the party earnestly exchanged mobile phone numbers and recorded his, in case he needed to know where he was and so that they might exchange their mutual mystifications over the ether. We then set out again, anxiously bunched up, almost treading on each others boots, to keep each other in sight. Some were relatively lightly clad, some bareheaded and/or gloveless and might have been huddling up for protection. Others of a less fashionable, roly-poly cut, with more than an academic interest in weather forecasts and personal comfort sank deeply into our swathes of protective gear. Even our stalwart leader was moved to don thick fleecy paws and close his neck flaps. Progressing resolutely and head-down, a couple of spontaneous hesitations and resulting collisions caused us to spread a little and then, mercifully, the snow eased.

The woodlands on the ridge were quite magically dusted. A camera would have captured many subtle light and shade effects between the trees, but also on the top edge of Whiteleaf Cross, where, although the view was again spectacular by its complete absence, the texture of snowflakes driven and bound into the turf in fine webs made a beautifully contrasted filligree of white and green.

Shortly before lunch our leader threw in a beautiful improvisation to the route from which we had dropped inadvertently too early going down a slope. Fortunately his sense of the landscape and local knowledge brought us to the pub via some pleasant meadows, a group of friendly horses and a couple of interestingly awkward and crotch-extending stiles.

The Bernards Arms in Great Kimble had welcoming fires for us. The reliable gas simulator at one end was already doing sterling work. The real coal-and-log job at the other end was running a bit behind schedule and ironically just managed to reach a roasting glow as we closed the door behind us in the early afternoon. The mood was good. To judge by her glowing face and general animation, hope for Hope had evidently transformed into realisation.

Commendably the second six(as it were) arrived only ten minutes after us to share a pleasant lunch break and our afternoon party was augmented to a nearly unwieldy 18. We then became rather like a buckety train with elastic couplings, with one group observant of daylight, the need to keep warm and the muddy conditions holding a steady pace whilst a leisurely 'oblivious' tendency required relatively frequent pauses to allow for catching up. Our leader, mercifully observant of their dilatoriness, snatched the odd opportunity to spot bird life - red fieldfares, long-tailed tits and a kestrel.

Crossing the claggy ploughed field at Chequers, mistletoe was observed high in a tree and an obliging couple, remembering their geometry lessons, dropped out of the line briefly and coordinated on the vertical, to general joy and merriment.

Shortly after this we began to detect signs of brightness and on the short steep ascent just before Dunsmore village we were greeted by full sunshine. Our spirits soared with the climb. Suddenly the day began to feel wonderful. Our leader conducted us faultlessly through the last stretch of woodland, carefully pointing out the iron railing(more like a gate) embedded in the tree which is the navigators key to the path approaching the magical entrance to Coombe Hill, glittering white under a covering of snow. Excitement mounted as we approached the fabulous panoramic vantage point from the Boer War Monument.

We were able to see many miles into a mistily bright landscape. To the West there were gold-lined pink and purpling clouds. We stood for several minutes whilst the light shifted - quietly rapt in contemplation.

Then we turned and slipped contentedly down the long frosted slope to Wendover.

( For those who thought about coming but didn't yet - for those who would have come but could not - hope to see you in 2002 !)

THANKS TO FELLOW WALKERS FOR THEIR COMPANIONSHIP - I'M SURE WE ALL ACKNOWLEDGE THE MANY THANKS WE OWE TO MIKE FOR HIS ORGANISING AND COORDINATING EFFORTS IN 2001 - A HAPPY 2002 TO YOU ALL !