It can be a criminal offence to worry sheep
in Britain. That seems fair. I’m sure worried sheep produce less luxurious wool
and probably taste funny too. But what about when you worry about the sheep?
Little lost lambs (they weren’t) gave us great cause for concern. Marauding
herds running right for us (they weren’t) were a city girl’s idea of a brush
with death. I learned a lot about sheep during a recent fifty-mile hike through
the Brecon Beacons National Park in Wales this weekend.
Mostly I learned that my Tanager teammates
preparing to Walk the Bryson Line through Britain this June to raise funds for 5 fantastic charities are great trail
companions. They got me over barbed wire, down a path that had become a running
river, over a snowfield and through a biblical amount of mud. We dealt deftly
with diversions, pubs closed for renovations (bugger) and walking along major
roads.
I have also learned that my friends and
family are the most generous of supporters. God bless every single one of you
who has made a contribution to the Royal Brompton Hospital that got me back on
my feet and back on the trail.
If you would like to contribute but haven’t
yet, here’s the link.
And if you feel really sorry for my
teammates who have to spend 30 days trekking with ‘little miss smartypants,
you might want to consider a donation as well.
