Supercollidor, an essay by Martin Crook

  "A forty minute walk in" he said, near Arennig Fawr. "Arennig Fawr" I said, already imaging dropping pothole deep into trackless wasteland in an area surely preserved for hardcore hillwalkers, outlaws of the honcho footpaths, stoics with massive calves, a plethora of stories regarding mist, knee injury, the ethics of ski poles and mobile … Continue reading Supercollidor, an essay by Martin Crook

Advertisements