well there I was. Once again, down in Somerset, visiting family. I decided that one morning, I would hop on the Mountain Bike and head off along the remote and lonely coutry lanes and visit some of the neighbouring villages. I woke bright and early and crept out of the house trying not to wake anyone up. As soon as I got outside it felt very errie and rather creepy.
It was so still, quiet and peaceful. No-one to speak or say good morning to. Even the hardcore dawn dog walkers had let me down. No one was about.
I looked around and saw that the whole village was covered in a thick blanket of freezing early morning mist. This left me with little or nothing to look at as I got on the bike and headed towards a place called Burrow bridge.
Visability was now down to about 15-20 metres at most.
Near to Burrow bridge is an old ruined church that lies on top of a historic mound known as Burrow mump. The church dates back to the 1800's and according to research, was never officially completed. The mump itself is even more historic, dating back hundreds of years.
The church was my destination and headed there via a network of lonely and isolated country lanes. As I peddled towards the church the mist got thicker.
I looked around and saw no-one. Not even any wildlife. I could hear the squawk of crows in the distance. This actually made me laugh out loud as this was something I'd normally only experienced in films or books.
It took about 45 minutes to get there and upon arrival, I headed towards a small wooden gate which leads to a dirt track at the base of the mump. This track would take me to the top of the mound and to the church itself.
I read the information plate which gave some usual national trust statistics, facts and figures etc.. but I was distracted by the main course.
Getting to the top!
It was a steep old climb up to the top and the church was still hidden by the mist. I continued to pedal until the mump became too steep thus making traction an issue. My back wheel spun. I hopped off the bike in frustration and started to walk pushing the bike towards the top.
At that point I could make out the shape of the church thorough the mist. A small gust past by me and gave me my first clear glimpse of the derelict church. I was far nearer to it than I thought.
It was such a breathtaking moment, seeing this old church in the morning mist that I cursed myself (quietly of course!) for not bringing my camera with me. I only had my mobile phone in my camelbak. So I quickly reached for it and snapped this.
The photo does'nt come close to what a decent camera would have done so I have tried to paint a picture for you with my factual, albeit cheesey, account.
Moral of the story is :- Next time my camera comes along!!
click on image
I suffer from paranoid amnesia. I can't remember who I don't trust.
