A marked increase in the number of incoherent, peckish ‘ramblers’ is being blamed on the spread of cannabis farms.
Rural police are struggling to control the sheer number of red-eyed inactivists, who are demanding the right to wander, or at least stray off topic.
“Back int’ day, t’only city folk who ‘appened on us were that John Craven”, claimed PC Jebidiah Wilkes, who patrols the Yorkshire Moors.
“Then Arkwright switched from dairy farming t’ydroponic marijuana production. Suddenly everywheear is townies, claiming to ‘see time’, ‘taste rainbows’ ‘n ‘understan’ t’accent’.”
Rural communities often resent the influx of ill-prepared ramblers, especially the ones that go ‘on and on’ about their hands looking weird.
“I thought Ben Fogle was boring when he came up here, to make a film about pig spotting”, claimed Maevis Hughes, a post mistress in the village of Clatter.
“Once this lot get going, they could talk the arse off an oak tree. But on the plus side, I do sell a lot more crisps.”
PC Wilkes now makes regular tours of Arkwright’s small-holding, using a borrowed cannabis tractor. “It meight look a slowun’, bur it feels like it’s goin’ like a rocket”, explained Wilkes.
“Ah’m on constant alert fer t’ ramblers who reckon they’re ‘at one wit’ world’, but have come up here, with all t’ wrong clobber.”
Without proper clothing, ramblers can be highly susceptible to both the elements, and misplaced feelings of mysticism. “Ah fownd one youngun’ curled up wi’ nowt burra tie-dyed sarong, n’ a t-shirt, depictin’ Gaia holdin’ spliff”, explained Wilkes.
“It were lucky ah saw ‘im, or he might have gone ‘hypothermic’. Yer cud see he already had ‘Shivas’.”