Falling Over Again

I volunteered to take my daughter's daughter out for the day. Weather conditions meant we avoided the planned trip to Dartmoor, and aimed for somewhere lower down ie Gunnislake on the train.
That's the Tamar and Calstock, not Gunnislake.
I had planned for up to 13 geocaches on the way, but Gunnislake is a very steep place, being located in the Tamar Valley, several hundred feet below the station, so we ended up with just the one. At the second, I determined to climb a muddy bank. On the descent, I got my feet entangled in a figure of eight of heavy duty cable, affixed securely to a fence. As I slid down, the cable tightened until my feet stopped while the rest of me continued onward in a very downward fashion, until I was suspended by my feet at an angle of about 60 degrees. To pull myself up required pulling on the cable, which inevitably tightened as I struggled. As my life flashed before my eyes, I eventually gained enough traction to release first one foot, then the other.

Needlesstosay, I was not in the mood for further adventure, so via a quick one in the pub,

which contained a lunchtime stag party, featuring a man in a pink baby suit, we climbed the hill back to the station

which is about 2 miles vertically above the village (did I mention that?), with me towing a 7 year old, moaning bitterly to herself about Cornish hills. And Melissa

had a whole LARGE sossidge roll at Plymouth Station, the most I have ever seen her eat