By: Blonde One
It has been our pleasure and privilege again to be a part of the Moor Boots scheme run by the lovely people at the Dartmoor Preservation Society.
After a chance meeting in Princetown between the Two Blondes and the DPA last year, a scheme was born in order to assist youngsters participating In the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award to fund equipment: namely boots. Some young people that we worked with received shiny new boots and took them all over the place last year: Torbay, Exmoor, the Isle of Man, but mostly Dartmoor. We all felt very lucky.
This year we were even more lucky when we were (amongst other schools) invited to participate again. Eight of our participants (Bronze and Gold) have received their boots and are very, very happy!
The boots were supplied (along with a pair of socks) and fitted by Cotswold Outdoor shop. John from the Dart’s Farm store visited us and spent some time fitting and giving advice to each recipient. He was very knowledgeable and gave some very important suggestions.
The Dartmoor Preservation Association do some very important work to keep our beautiful Dartmoor being just that: beautiful! They work hard to protect and preserve it, and just like the Two Blondes are keen to encourage the next custodians through schemes such as this. Have a look at their website and maybe get involved. http://www.dartmoorpreservation.com/
In the meantime: JP, FS, PH, the DPA … thank you very much!
Ah, yes, the voice of Blonde One – there is a difference. I’ve learnt to pay attention.
The relationship between a person and a pair of boots is more than that with any old inanimate object. Closer to a marriage, certainly an interdepence. For decades I looked at my boots with affection and now that they and I are – as it were – living in a retirement home my boots are a source that triggers memory.
Once, in the late fifties, I had just emerged from the lower scree-run slopes of Great Hell Gate on Great Gable – that’s a mountain in an area other than Dartmoor. The dust there is a dull matte red; my boots had assumed this colour as had my trousers up to my waist. Still trotting from the momentum I had achieved I passed a young woman totally displaced geographically. Her home was perhaps half a mile from mine in Bradford, I had a hopeless longing for her that had never been articulated and here she was ninety miles away from what I believed to be her only habitat. She was as startled as I was and I passed by her without a word. The way you do when suffering from an over-prolonged adolescence.
Now, if I go up into the attic and look at my boots (I know exactly where they are) I am sure I could – with a microscope – find traces of that dull matte red dust. Speaking more eloquently sixty years after the event than I managed on that hot, emotion-charged day.
These days boots wear out or are changed for technical and/or fashionable reasons. But I, thank the Zeus of Great Gable, am still at heart a child of my times.
You’re right Roderick, they are indeed much much more than just a pair of boots. Hopefully these 8 pairs will take their owners on some good ‘memory creating’ adventures like yours.