Did you hear about the Wrekin Wramblers?

NEWS

Did you hear about the Wrekin Wramblers?

She counted them all out, and she counted them all back. Well actually not back. In fact the President was in the Huntsman pub halfway through her lasagne before she said ‘Do you think everyone got down all right?’ By that time it was dark and drizzly and the thought of going back up the Wrekin with torches and tracker dogs didn’t hold as much appeal as another drink and maybe a look at the dessert menu.

We began in bright sunshine and brighter spirits, gathered in the Wrekin car park for a pep talk by Jackie from Shropshire CAB. Jackie told us about the CAB’s work of advising people on vital issues like benefits and housing, and how the Access to Justice Foundation funds this work where Legal Aid and Local Authority funding fall short. Only 11-12% of CAB work nationally is covered by Legal Aid, so there’s a massive gap to be filled.

Inspired by this thought, we set off. Jackie, 23 lawyers and a dog named Boo.

The thing about the Wrekin is that, as Winnie the Pooh would say, it’s very up. You start off confidently striding and thinking ‘this isn’t too bad’, and by the time you get to the first turn you’re thinking ‘My sweet God will this never end?’ And then to add insult to personal injury, as you toil wheezing step by tortured step towards the ever-receding summit, fit young mountain-bikers with calves like brioche keep zooming past, spraying gravel at your knees.

Nevertheless, we persisted, and when we did eventually straggle to the top, the view was glorious. The clouds were by Metro Goldwyn-Meyer, shafts of evening sun burnished the golden fields and the Shropshire hills shone blue in the limpid distance. You half expected the Mike Sammes singers to strike up a hymn and Charlton Heston to emerge from behind a rock holding the Ten Commandments.

Sadly the only tablets we had were some ibuprofen and a couple of paracetamol, so we chugged them down with our bottled water and teetered back down the hill, wincing as a whole new set of muscles protested. While we crunched and skidded on the treacherous gravel, evening began to turn to night. The shadows deepened and a thin drizzle fell. We trudged on through the damp existential gloom with only one sustaining thought: The Pub.

As any real athlete will tell you, the ‘warm-down’ is an important part of training, so once we reached level ground, we followed the most up-to-date medical advice by repairing to the Huntsman for hot food and brimming pint glasses of muscle-relaxant. It may seem curious that the warm-down actually lasted twice as long as the walk but, hey, you can’t argue with science.

Now for my Radox bath and some more of those paracetamols.

At the time of writing, we have raised over £850 for the Access to Justice Foundation with MFG Solicitors being crowned the top fundraising team. Thanks to everyone who sponsored us and everyone who took part. Freakin’ Wrekin heroes one and all.