Posted on Monday 6 December 2010 by Martin Hayman
After a week when travel anywhere, by road, rail or air, proved well-nigh impossible, it seemed unlikely Bob’s ride to the Chilterns would take wing. More in hope than expectation, and driven on by a feeling of torpidity and indeed cabin-fever, I set out in the misty chill and found several other hardy souls at Euston Station.
Our train was running, and soon we were running for our train. The mist was thicker, danker, and colder at Tring and as we set forth, I asked myself if this made sense; of course it didn’t! With his encyclopaedic knowledge of the Chilterns, Bob marshalled us this way and that, avoiding the lanes likeliest to be snowbound. But with the temperature at only just over freezing, it was hard to tell where the hazards of icy surfaces lay. more »