MIKE HALLOWELL: Cleadon at last

Well, spring has sprung, the grass is riz and Darren W. Ritson and I have returned home from our expedition to Cleadon Hills, It was an arduous time. The outward journey took no less than eleven minutes, which a check with CFZ records showed was just slightly less than the time it took Richard Freeman to Mongolia on his last sojourn there. Still, we made it.

Our first stop was the old Cleadon Water Tower where a ghost was said to appear from time to time; not exactly in the water tower, but in the field adjacent to it. She/he/it did not put in an appearance. Details about the alleged water tower ghost are vague. One version of the story is that it is a "screaming banshee", but it is likely that the tale is a distorted version of that concerning another ghost said to inhabit the nearby Cleadon Mill. Cleadon Mill it was, then. We checked our compasses, marshalled our team of donkeys and paid the sherpas another fiver.

Cleadon Mill is now abandoned, and is one of a number of historical monuments within South Tyneside which generate echoes of long-gone days. The flour has been replaced by dust and soil, the miller's family by pigeons nesting in numerous cavities within the sturdy walls. By the time we arrived at the mill a tremendous gale had generated. This certainly ramped up the eeriness, but the Woman in the Red Dress didn't show. We were truly disappointed. Darren and I took over one hundred photographs, hoping that at least on one she'd put in an appearance. She didn't. Bugger.

But the main purpose of our visit was not to track down ghosts. Rather, we were searching for one of two legendary cryptids said to stalk the vicinity. One was the notorious Cleadon Big Cat, which first ensconced itself into local folklore back in 2002. The second was the Beast: a large, hirsute man-like creature akin to Bigfoot. The Beast was of more recent provenance and of far more interest to me than the big cat.

As the wind chewed at our flesh, we searched. Darren ventured south, whilst I walked to the north. And it was then that I saw it. There, lumbering away from me across the landscape, was a large biped with an unusual gait. It was at this juncture I realised just how cunning the Beast could be, because through my binoculars I could see that it had shape-shifted and taken upon itself the exact appearance of Darren in an effort to go undetected. Truly, the Beast of Cleadon Hills is the most devious of cryptozoological entities.

"The weird thing," Darren commented later, "is that the place where you photographed the creature is EXACTLY where I was at the same time…and yet I swear to God I didn't see it. It must have been right next to me."

As the gale force increased we decided to bring our expedition to a close there and then. The Screaming Banshee had avoided us. The spectral Woman in the Red Dress had not deigned to appear. The Cleadon Big Cat had seemingly moved on to pastures new. But we HAD caught the Beast of Cleadon Hills on camera – incredibly, masquerading as Darren. Our journey had not been wasted, then, but both of us would be later that evening.

This picture must rank as one of the most incredible ever taken in the annals of paranormal research. As a public service the WraithScape team has decided to place it in the public domain for all to wonder at, copy and send to their friends. It's just the sort of guys we are.

So, what does the future hold? We aim to petition the CFZ to launch a full expedition to Cleadon Hills. No man, woman, child or household pet can be safe while the Beast roams free. Posses of vigilantes must roam the hills at midnight carrying burning torches with dramatic music playing in the background until the Beast – that dreaded, loathsome Beast - is captured. Until it is subdued and displayed in a cage at the next Weird Weekend we simply cannot rest in our beds.