In the middle of all this festive jollity, Keith and I got together for a blast up the Pentlands. Little did we know that, with the thaw in full swing, the paths would be a mixture of deep slush and icy puddles, with swollen streams and rutted tracks thrown in for good measure. It took us nearly four hours to cover 27 miles. We returned tired and chilly about the extremities, and reflecting fondly on a grand morning out, even if we turned up too early (not to mention dirty) to get a pint at the Flotterstone Inn.
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