… Entire country lurches to right? This newly crafted folk couplet struck me as a furious badger attempted to extricate itself from betwixt bin and fence. But with the clock striking twelve and the seals of city hall being relunctantly passed to the floppy haired fop, I felt their must be a link between the extreme vexation of stripey mammal and handing the capital over to a man who appears to have been dressed by his mum.
Whatever. The badger finally freed itself in a squeel of pain and charged off up the garden to take revenge on the lawn, and/or insect/family pet innocently crossing it’s path. So with my inner hippy fully lentiled up, a fine morning brought forth “A week since it hailed… lovely dry trails” as we submerged ourself in the singletrack of Swinley forest.
Submerged being exactly the right word to spear my lentil* with ten minutes of post deluge slop creating the kind of mutinous environment that saw Sea Captain’s walking the plank. The dichotomy of hot sun and axle deep mud was rather disappointing in the same was as waking up with your knob missing could be termed slightly annoying. Rather than huffing off for some therapy cake, we struck out to the lesser known – and considerably driver – trails, and discovered a couple of little crackers.
That cheered me up as did getting my fat ass off this little drop that I’ve been neshing for weeks. It must be all of about 2 feet, maybe 2 and a half if you’ve deployed the penis length adjustment factor. But the whole clipped in/riding off things fills my minds eye with splintered bones and splattered blood.
Still all’s well that ends without a visit to A&E. I shall however be visiting the model shop after a stunningly crash free flight of my RC plane ended when the propeller fell off. At which point, it exhibited all the aerodynamic prowess of a shot duck. It seems my legendary MTB mechanical skills have been passed seamlessly to other hobbies.
* Hurts just to think about it.