How it all Began

That's me on the left, already finding limestone comfy, complete with open flies (once a zip had gone in those days you had to put up with it) and an awful Steve Austin vest that I can't remember.  That's Richard with me and he was born, brought up, and still lives in the shadow of Ingleborough.  It is that boiling summer of 1976 when I was trying hard to look like Allan Clarke.  It was this camping trip that sparked off an obsession for that solid stuff I'm sitting on.  So now you know.