The Drustone

Chapter Nine. The Roman Road

At first glance this would seem to be no contest as P.C. had recently experienced a growth spurt, and was by far the tallest and strongest of the threesome. However, he was asthmatic and had the smallest bike. Henry was quite chubby, but blessed with great reserves of stamina. Rev was not in the least athletically inclined and tended to use his wits to offset the disadvantages resulting from his rather frail physique. 

Henry was the first to go. He set off along the gentle approach to the hill, at what for him was blazing speed, reasoning that this would carry him further up the gradient. He headed straight up the slope but within seconds was forced in to a standing position as he strained to keep the pedals turning. The effort became too great, and he clumsily dismounted, after barely making it half way up the escarpment. 

Rev very rarely won these competitions that were so popular with his friends, but he was always willing to have a go. He made a much slower approach to the hill, but to no avail. Long before he reached Henry his forward progress halted, and he was in imminent danger of going backwards. He hastily dismounted. 

P.C., determined to maintain his status as the best athlete in the group, tried something different. Like Henry, he built up speed in the lower reaches, but was already standing on his pedals as he entered the steepest portion. Instead of heading straight up the hill he started to weave from side to side, using the full width of the road. Grimacing with pain, purple-faced from the strain and lack of breath, he inched towards Henry. With one last muscle-knotting push on the upper pedal, he achieved his goal, raised his arms in triumph, and ignominiously crashed into the  hedge.  

Luckily, P.C's injuries were minor and didn't interfere with the rest of the climb, most of which they spent on foot. The bikes had been more of a hindrance than a help in this initial part of their journey.  

After a brief rest at the summit, the boys remounted and continued their journey along a short stretch of road bordering the local golf links. A mysterious stone monument loomed over the course. None of the boys had ever been and actually seen the structure up close, but this didn't prevent their usual characteristic speculations. Henry thought it might be a lookout built at the time of the Spanish Armada, Rev, a Victorian folly, and P.C. believed it marked the ninth green. As usual they couldn't agree. 

The road ahead suddenly started to curve to the right for no apparent reason. 

"What's happened to the straight and narrow?" asked Henry.  

"I think I know," replied P.C. "Me and you, Henry, we were near here the other day." 

Henry gave a puzzled look.

"Over there on your left. Can't you see the mound? It's the one we found when we were heading towards Ulverston. Don't you remember?" 

"Of course. That's one of the barrows..  But you know what that means?"  

Rev just knew what was coming.  

"They have built this road around the edge of the moor and not disturbed the mounds. The Romans avoided the burial ground." 

"Maybe it was just easier to avoid the barrow," said Rev, sarcastically. 

P.C., ever the peacemaker, changed the subject. "I have an idea why the Romans built this road. It leads to Lowfield Bridge." 

"And what's there, P.C.?"  Rev asked. 

"Iron mines."

After passing the mound the road straightened out and led them to a small surmountable hill followed by a gradual descent to a crossroads. Beyond the junction the rugged landscape changed. One more excruciating climb and they emerged on to an intensively farmed limestone plateau. A following wind and bright sunshine buoyed the boys, and progress was rapid.