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Report 1459
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Lovely Wunderfool Spring (and Vodka)
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FRB's away the "can carrier" can play. That is "Porta cannabis tinibus jouer" (or is that the decleched fifth and therefore joues?). Anyway it seems not a lot of people don't know that the venerable FRB, yes he of the advanced years and no job to hoover up his time, prepares this rubbish most weeks, but I still get all the stick for when it goes wrong - of course neither of us hear from anyone when it goes right! Despite getting it to the printers most weeks by midday monday SOMETHING is going wrong but we have the technology, I'll ask the folk in the cobblers (who of course do the whole production from printing their email - yes! email in a cobblers! - to sticking stamps on and, hopefully, putting it in the small red elephant) what may be going wrong.
For those in the 3rd millenium, who knew where the Viking run was this year from their magic postbag, (and Mad Marrion, who "Knew where bloody Woldingham is, where is the carpark" and got details by telephone) AND ignored the entreaties to exit the 1st roundabout at the 3rd exit, (or was that the 3rd roundabout at the 1st exit?), were rewarded with a lovely sunny day and unique run.
The off was up a long slightly sloping - yes the wrong way - bit of tarmac leading on to dirtrack leading on to the first check solution, right and downhill, but not for long! The hills round here are bastards, and soon we were labouring up the first of several.
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well anyway, there was a check and it sort of went ..." so not much about the run except that we seemed to be generally together, with small parts (Arfur Pint for one) of the 3rd quartile (better not say knitting circle - dangerous!) catching up at the occasional difficult check.
The inside knowledge that there was a "half way" drink stop kept even Gibber under short cut control, but at 12:40 we hoped we had missed it, if it was only half way! But after passing Abba, presumably going round backwards, well not walking backwards! I mean, well you know, in reverse oh bollocks where is this going? As it happens, past a group of novice equestrians (horse riders - ed) whose mummy didn't go much on the horn, and then up "150 steps" (Abba arithmetic) to - DaDahh the - "Vodka and meatball stop". Here the Viking non combatants i.e. excused flour laying duties, doled out "knackkerbrot" and caviar with a choice of pink or clear rocket fuel. Unfortunately there was still some left when Gibber finally arrived despite my, Dormouse's and the Dormouse Dog ("Meatballs" - nothing to do with the shortness of legs - he's very tall when meatballs need reaching!) efforts at trying all combinations of Vodka, fish eggs and onion.
As it turned out it was not a halfway stop and a 10 minutes gentle romp down hill got us back. The valley was excellent for bugle echo, so some big kid played with his most of the way back!
and since I can't remember the down downs, a poem(ish):
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The spring has sprung, the grass is ris,
I wonder where the burdies is?
The burdies they is on the wing!
Now isn't that a funny thing?
I thought the wing was on the boid,
Now isn't that absoid?
Tequil'over.
There are simply hundreds of pictures on the website. GO THERE! Whoops you must be already!!
