It was long, hard and wet. A bit like a Horny Monkey and Skidmark nightout. Actually it was so wet yesterday, all day, that the hare thought no-one would bother to show. And everyone did because they thought the hare needed support for his ‘efforts’!
The trail was laid around the forests surrounding a huge dam, or series thereof, and started from a small resort run by Heinrich the Saffer. Markings were pink and yellow postits said Semen Soars. Well, kinda, more like thirds of. Alas the hare neglected to provide magnifying glasses to the pack, so he sauntered along guiltily to make sure we were on trail for the first part of the run.
The first big obstacle was a steep dam run off channel. 6 foot down, 15 foot across slippy concrete running with overflow water and 6 feet up the other side, with 100 foot of concrete slide below at a steep angle. Grumbledick didn’t fancy it and he wasn’t alone. Thankfully Horned Monkey lent me a hand and we were over. The next check was down at the end of a sodden field. No marking could be found until some off trail r*nners checked way way above us on the dam itself. Up the green bushy dam wall side we scrambled and turned left at the end. The trail now dropped down towards the water’s edge and ran along the rocky shore then up into the forests. It was tough to follow tiny bits of paper and even more so when following the silent Turk. Funny how loud he was for a week spouting on about his big new erection. Now an FRB, he quieter than hasher who slips a roadie beer into his plastic bag. Oh, TD, one and the same! Talking of slips, Horny went down onto his hands at one point but his arse didn’t touch rock, and he also tottered after stepping on an errant stone later going thru water but those bloody ankle braces saved him. We were denied! Baah.
The forest trail was totally sodden, rain hammered down solidly and everything glistened and was green. Apart from the muddy clay. Which was brown. A different brown to Fishy Fingers’ hair, a bit lighter I’d say, but I digress. Semen had powder/cement circle checks and Vs but the trail went straight on round the lake shape as I imagined. After a V deep in the forest I found three blue plastic tubes. Blue Man Tube Skiddy Sticks! Sadly no-one else saw them as they all had taken the left spur and left me investigating the right!
The way in was long and wet. Follow the yellow brick road Dororthy, said Elton John, or something. And onwards for miles we trudged along a brick paved road circumnavigating the dam and dreaming of beer and strangling the hare, or both. HRA was FRB here with Muskrat and Horny going like a steam train. Sloppy joined the party and Turkish was in the group. After nearly 75 mins I staggered in, behind HRA but level with Sloppy. In dribs and drabs the exhausted pack returned to find no cold beer. What was the hare doing neglecting his duties? Walking and r*nning with Frozen Dick along the last mile or so to get in before curfew. Beware the quiet man with a stick said Winston Churchill. Beware the quiet man with a brolly says I.
Pool, Circle pt1. Food. Crap Irish coffee. Circle pt2. Kwazi apologies to Grumbledick. Semen serenades GD. Home. ZZZ.
(Alice)