The stream. Or some of it. Motorbike Tree on the left.
The gentle slope where I learned to run quietly. The scene of my transfer from clumsy plod to deliberate foot placement.
Mudslide on left. Another view of Faceplant Bog alluded to before.
Up the mudslide. A lot rootier than it was...
The launch point of the Little Slide.
Come down from the right, bear off to the left...
And the view from behind me as I took the above... A good section of stream to clamber down. Used to be a wasps nest down there, which my little brother found out generally don't respond well to being poked...
Looking down from the ridge on the right of the stream. Former coal mine. People died there from black damp, but long before my time...
Kid brother. Hairs down the hill with no brakes. Hits this headfirst at the bottom. Knocked out some baby teeth, emptied some claret.
Used to be minus the tree and collapsed section of walkboard. Those things got unbelievably slippy when it rained. Skidded off many a time on my bike into the ditch...
The Conker Place. Needs no other words.
The ramp, and some limestone. Good for bike stunts.
Jen's field. and Jen.
Cowfield. Cows used to follow the dog all the time. Their tongues were hooge too. Tickle a cow's nose and watch...
Why the Piglet Walk was called the Piglet Walk. Tis is where Piglet lived.
A couple of views from the railtrack.
