Looking for Robert Wilson's grave.
Our local hill was one of the warning beacons during the Napoleonic wars and guards were stationed near the summit in a hut for a week at a time. During one harsh winter they ran short of provisions so one volunteered to head down to the village for replenishments. He didn't make it back. His body was found 150m from the hut where they later erected a memorial stone though it's marked on the map as "Robert Wilson's Grave". Now I'd never managed to find this before so thought I'd dodge the showers and have a snurgle around.
Since I wasn't going far I thought I'd take the fat bike. The last time I'd ridden this was in Norway when I'd got blown off and broke my collarbone. Today was pretty windy. What could possibly go wrong? Well the seat post was stuck for a start and at just too low a height to be comfortable but I couldn't move it. Air in the tyres, oil the chain and away we go.
I could have taken the road all the way to the edge of the moorland but thought I'd do a bit of bridleway for part of it instead. It's not interesting, basically a farm track then a gravel access track but it's a bit different and even though it's close to home it's not one I do with any regularity. Back on the road I stopped to see if I could raise the seat. Fortunately the jarring of the ground had loosened things so a bit of tugging (ooh, err missus!) and it was at the right height. While I was doing this a roadie stopped and asked if I'd a flat needed any help though 25c inner tubes would have been pushing it a bit!

A bit of a chat then we went our separate ways.
A long steady climb up on to the moor, past the expected site of the "grave" and up to the summit.
It were a bit blowy on top so no time to linger. Back down the way I'd come and try to figure out where this grave was. I dropped below where I had searched before. The first stop didn't yield anything but a bit further on there was a very faint track leading off the one I was on. Bingo!
The inscription reads: "
Here was found dead the body of Robert Wilson, one of the Beacon Gards, who died January 29th 1805 aged 59 years"
Looking over the moor.
It was now looking like I wasn't going to avoid the showers so on with the jacket and over the moor to pick up a footpath(everything up on this bit of moor is cheeky) that leads back towards home. I've ridden this loads and it's a great bit of moorland riding. The shot below is from a couple of months ago when we rode it.
The next bit of track was the one in the mid-distance leading past the farm, just after it bends left there's a steep BW down into the village. By now the shower was pretty heavy and things were grim and it looked like there was an even heavier one on the way. Sure enough it hit just as I started down into the village

Thoroughly soaked I rolled back along the road to home just as yet another shower arrived.
At least I didn't break anything!
