Manx Rover's Ramblings

Coast to Coast 10 a belligerent old codger on the Patterdale track.


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The air was chilled and humid, the breeze strong and blustery, and the sky dark and low. Unlike the furtive mist that caressed the cheeks, the storm’s calling card was a shotgun blast of icy droplets full in the face. It was when battling the misty storm that Mr Catastrophe whispered, ‘G’day’.

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Manx Rover's RamblingsBy Richard H Cowley