A happy-go-lucky English rambler dude goes to New Zealand for a year. Here he interfaces with some of those he left behind and details his nefarious activities. Or summat.
Recently clicked on MP3s - 7th June 2005 The Lucksmiths - Warmer Corners
Jens Lekman - When i said i wanted to be your dog
The Trashcan Sinatras - Weightlifting
Teenage Fanclub - Man Made
Laura Veirs - Carbon Glacier
The Decemberists - Picaresque
The Eels - Blinking Lights
Monday, February 11, 2002
Well, Sunday's walk up Mount Cloudsley and Mount Enys did indeed turn out to be an epic. Mainly due to my inablility to get out of bed before 10am on a Sunday :o(
I'm still a little too mentally scarred to discuss it at length, but luckily Michael, who accompanied me, has written a Tolkien-esqe description part of the walk, which is included below.
Setting the scene.... We started off at 1pm, a little too late for a 20k walk involving 2000m+ of ascent, but the summits were bagged and all was going well. Until we were faced with the age old decision about how to get back to the car - Take the long, safe and Tedious route along the road. Or, the short cut over some seeminly innocuous, rolling grassland, with some harmless looking rivers meandering around in it. Needless to say we went for the short cut. Over to Michael "JRR" Reid.....
The darkness fell upon them with quiet foreboding as they trudged
through the long tussock swamp land that sat defiantly on the
hillslope. It crossed their minds that such boggy ground should lie
in a hollow rather than on a slope where water should drain away.
Foolishly, they ignored the paradox, just as they ignored the
sudden appearance of a second stream to their right, assuming it
was nothing more than their own oversight that meant that they
were now hemmed in by torrents of dark frigid water. The gorse
thickened as light diminished, spines stretching out towards them,
eager for the taste of soft flesh. They moved onward though, the
lights of the village ahead tempting them, the calming display of the
GPS assuring them that the end lay a mere 1000 metres away.
Finally they arrived at the top of the high bank of the river. Heedless
of danger, they charged down the precipitous slope, believing the
end was in sight, that only one barrier, the stream, lay between
them and the safety of the village and the car.
Hardly stopping to search for a suitable spot to ford the raging
depths, they charged across and made it safe, though wetter to the
other side. They did not know that this was exactly where the
forces arrayed against them wanted them to be - standing on this
side of the river, looking ahead, seeing only the 50 metres that
separated them from the village lights, blind to the dark mass that
stood ahead. Stepping into it, they did not hear the laughter which
swirled though the branches......................
Part Two "The Evil Spiky Ass bushes from hell" continues tomorrow
7:13 am
