Somewhere under the rainbow
There’s been some strange goings-on in Dave’s neck of the woods
I’M an early riser. The start of a new day is very special to me and If I’m not up and about in the countryside as the sun rises, I feel I’ve missed out. Happily, I’ve got a dog who’s every bit as pleased as me to be out and about very early, checking out the fresh scents left by the creatures of the night.
But the other morning Billy the Wonderdog sniffed out something different. We were on a lonely footpath on the far side of the valley, in the gloom of a misty morning about half an hour before sunrise, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, staring at a hedgerow about 20 yards away. I followed his gaze and saw an indistinct dark shape, staring back. I flicked on my head torch and a pair of green eyes stared back at me from a coal-black face. It looked like a big cat – and I don’t mean one of the tabby variety.
I switched off the light and fumbled for my camera, but I was too late to grab a shot, as it disappeared into the darkness. Billy, meanwhile, hadn’t moved a muscle. He didn’t even growl. It was obviously something he didn’t feel like tangling with – and nor did I, for that matter. A friend later told me that there have been reported sightings of pumas in the valley, but now in the cold light of day I can’t help wondering if it was a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps it was a muntjac deer (although it didn’t look like one at the time).
This is a very special place. The nearby hamlet is set on the edge of a wood, by which there is an old-fashioned street lamp that shines through the trees, just like the one in the magical world of Narnia. Meanwhile, the village church has a leaning spire – not so pronounced as the famous wonky
tower in Pisa, Italy, but several feet out of true. I was looking across at it yesterday afternoon from my side of the valley when a huge rainbow suddenly appeared in the sky immediately above it. Luckily, I was quicker on the draw with my camera this time and managed to snap its fiery fury.
There may not be a crock of gold at the end of it, but there are certainly some treasures to keep me amused on my pre-dawn rambles.
Talking of crocks, there’s another mystery that needs solving – and that’s the mysterious morphing of Wesley Pegden’s ever-changing Series Land Rovers. In recent episodes, the Last of the Summer Wine mechanic’s beloved vehicle has been a Series II (registration AVH 605A) and two different Series IIIS (CTU 675K and ODT 418X – the latter with a unique split rear door). I’m pretty sure that later in the long-running sitcom he ends up with a 100 inch hybrid, so I will keep my eyes peeled.
To me, Wesley is the typical old-school Land Rover man, who likes nowt better than tinkering around with old cars in his shed, from which he inevitably emerges beating out the flames from his smouldering flat cap. I have to admit I’ve never seen a real-life mechanic with his flat cap on fire, but I have witnessed my Norfolk mate Nigel Hammond with his overalls alight after welding the underside of a few old Land Rovers. “That’s nuffin,” he shrugs. “The wust ones are when a spark gets down yer overulls. They mek yer hop about a bit!” Who needs TV heroes when you’ve got real-life mates like Nigel?
I miss Nigel and Norfolk, with its famous poppies and windmills. I haven’t been across since last summer – the longest I’ve ever been away from the county I was born in. Can’t wait to fire up the Ninety and drive over again. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the riverside world closer to home. There’s always something to see and yesterday I managed some nice snaps of a heron fishing in the shallows below the watermill. He didn’t seem to have a trouble in the world: obviously he hadn’t heard about the big cat.
Finally, did you have boyhood heroes? I did and they included speed ace Donald Campbell, who would have been 100 years old on March 23 this year. Instead, he perished on January 4, 1967, at Coniston Water in the Lake District while attempting to add the water speed record to his land speed record of 403 mph, set three years earlier.
I don’t know about you, but in my younger days, whenever I got a new pushbike, motorbike or car, one of the first tasks was to see how fast it would go. That’s why Donald Campbell was a hero for boys – of all ages (and girls – Louise Woodhams)! But he also loved Land Rovers, which he always used as support vehicles for all his record attempts, and one clip from a recent TV tribute documentary showed him parading his land speed record Bluebird car at Brands Hatch featured no less than three Series IIS. He was clearly a man of taste and realised that speed wasn’t everything…
Do you remember editor Patrick’s lovely interview with Campbell’s daughter, Gina, a few years back? Well, she also featured in the documentary, and was pictured driving her Range Rover Sport in the Lake District. The registration plate, K7 DAD, pays tribute to both her father and Bluebird K7, the boat that killed him. He was her hero, too.