"Never Fear Father", we cried. "For we shall rescue the Holy Pie". Father holything made the sign of the cross and with much wailing we became Pie Disciples. And so it was that we three went forth into the surrounding country to begin the neverending quest for pie.

It was on a fine Saturday morning that we set forth, leaving our loved ones behind us. Ben carried a holy catholic relic amongst his curious medieval cassock - 'twas the famour "Fork of Feasting". Paul in an attempt to discover pie and bring glory to us all rode the magnificant "Unicycle of Unearthly travel". Following in his wake I tramped behind as we wended our way south. It was approaching midday as we passed through the fair village of Leckhampton, stopping to dance and caper with many friendly folk. As we turned a corner a friendly fellow popped up from behind a hedge and offered to show us his fine badger, for he was most proud of it. Obligingly we oggled it a few metres from the road, out of plain site of passers-by

The way was hard as we mounted the rise of a tall mountain on our way through Shurdington, I paused to rest on the stout willow staff I had cut from the hedge and shouted a 'Good Morrow' to the stout yeoman passing us by with his donkey and trap. Topping the rise we travelled a mile or so down the road and a tavern became clear to the eye atop Crickley Hill

"I wouldst slake my thirst awhile stout comrades", I breathed, "I am mighty parched"

"'tis true", cried Paul, "and we may find the Lord's pie within".

Ahead we scampered and soon we were sipping cool real ales and gazing rapturously at the insides of the tavern, marvelling all the while at the fine hearth that greeted us. Entitled the Air Ballon this country tavern boasted many a jug of finest Caledonian IPA, and we didst slake our thirst with gusto.

"Innkeep", cried Paul, "for we are pie disciples, does this house have pie"

"Alas Brothers", said the Landlord, "for our stockists have changed, the man with the wagon no longer delivers us pie. We do however have this common pie you may try".

"Fare ye well good Innkeep", spoke Ben, "for we search for more lordly pies this day"

...and so it was that we set forth once more, trudging along with our noses held high in the hopes of smelling gravy. Down many a dark lane did we traipse, weaving in an out of on-coming horses and carts.

"In the name of the crust", I cried "for, tis dangerous work today, these horses doth caper most quickly. I we do keep to the many hollows and crannies betwixt knotted branch we may reach our goal unscathed".

So it was that the three of us did scamper and dart in and out of the foliage with carts tearing around in so much haste. There was such a to-do that Paul was forced to dismount the Unicycle of Unearthly travel, travelling instead on all fours. T'was hard struggle but soone did we a-spy smoke curling over the tops of the trees ahead. Sure enough there was a stout homestead in plain view.

"Looks like a jolly and wholesome place", cried Ben, " shall we hence and mingle".

"Aye!", said we and soon we were in the midst of friendly cobs, with the barman reaching for three stout tankards from above the bar and filling them with cascades of frothing real ale.

Narry a cur didst we spy as we made for an olde oak bench in the garden. Seating ourselves we glanced at the list of victuals scrawled on the slate resting on our tabletoppe.

"Cow Pie!", cried I, "comrades we have triumphed", and with that we clinked our thunderjugs together and gulped deeply.

"I shall petition the landlorde", cried Paul, leaping forth with gusto.

Due to the number of patrons it was a while before our quarry didst arrive, yet we were content and didst sink many a jug-o ale and laughed o'er many a jest. Whenst pie didst hove into sight, it t'was a marvel to beholde

"By the gods!", cried Ben, "for pies have sprouted horns!", and sure enough the pastry was adorned with decoration of horns just like a trio of prime heffers.

I slapped my thigh with delight and picked up fork ready to set to. When the meal was over we sat quaffing and corousing, til Paul's goodewife didst arrive and joined in festive revelry.

The Quarry

Unfortunately no picture of the quarry was taken. 

The Scores