OK well, at the risk of hijacking yet another thread (sorry Ogy) - here goes.
Sometime around October 1980blob about twelve of us and 2 dogs set off from Osmotherley at around 11:00 pm.
We had a transit van moving along the route to supply us with hot coffee, butties and stuff and all went well till around 3:00 am ish when I was sitting in the back of the van and decided that it would be OK just to rest my eyes for a minute. I've never been too good at staying awake all night (or even all day for that matter!)
The next thing I knew I was being shaken around as the van driver did his worst on the country roads. Apparently some sudden loud snoring from the back of the van had startled him - he thought he was alone.
We parked up somewhere in deep fog with lots of heather (no idea where it was), and, shortly my dog appeared out of the gloom, followed by the other 11, now ever so slightly fragged walkers. So, duly refreshed, I rejoined the walk.
I took a fair amount of flak for it, though, but the dog seemed quite pleased to see me.
Our so-called leader wasn't much cop, I remember, and he was a bit nervous about the conditions and the fact that we seemed to be almost permanently dislocated from where we were supposed to be, and he worried about us getting strung out. We did try to reassure him that as soon as we hit the big blue (?grey) pond, it would be time to stop and that such a big target would be difficult to miss. However, he did insist on regular count-ups and we got totals ranging from 10 to 14, each one becoming less accurate as the night went on and we got less and less interested. I assume that this could have been a factor in me not being missed. Its probably just as well that I hadnt fallen down a hole or something.
Its not my proudest hillwalking moment.
PS This week's walk now rescheduled for Wednesday (tommorrow) due to duff weather forecast for Thursday.