R*n 942: Heysham

Hares White Noise and Office Trolley sipped drinks looking relaxed in the pub garden under the shelter of outstretched canvas. "Just go to the roundabout and pick-up trail there", they advised. Searching high and low within a 100 meter radius revealed no trail markings, so the search area was enlarged. Up a hill and finally a couple of trail markings. Little did we know for rather a long time that this was in fact taking us backwards around the trail.

After marching up the hill with nowhere near 10,000 men, we marched them back down again to see the sea shore, past the church and the sandstone cut graves. As always, this stretch of coast feels a world from the Morecambe prom.

But at the far end where the cafe is located, the power stations hiss steam and the Isle of Man ferries await high tide, there was no flour in any direction. Time for the unthinkable, a mobile phone was whipped out and directions sought from the hares. We were given instructions but still the flour remained elusive.

We found a Rambo split and promisingly, there were some markings for a short time, then none. So we looked at our phones and forged a route back to the pub.

Thanks to the hares. We enjoyed our outing anyway and i found some roads I'd never been on before.

Lurch