That was some ride up over Shap. I could feel the wind and I was just watching in the shelter of my kitchen!!! Well done for making it to Kendal in one piece. That beer was well deserved.
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It’s 0240 am Zulu and I cannot sleep. My legs are screaming at me demanding to be fed. I crawl out of bed to retrieve the cold crumple of paper wrapped chips from the waste basket and start to eat the greasy nastiness from within the printless sheets. If I cannot sleep I must at least write a final letter before my execution at dawn. To explain to you all why I am guilty of letting loose my thoughts, full of hairy melons and balloon dogs and Mr Softees and the like. I lay on my back with the small bed side table lamp projecting monstrous demon shadows onto my cell wall. I listen carefully to the beautiful music that’s being riven with full force into that space between my ears; a playlist specifically selected for this moment in time. I start to cry. Not a sound out of me. Just rivulets of water cascading down my cheeks. Stoppit now Wayne, for you are dehydrated enough. Tears on your pillow sadly will not drown your sorrows in this life...
It’s 0408 zulu. My sleeping bag is full of dead mosquitoes. Only a short update here to confirm that I am still alive. Yesterday was start of the Timber trail. An unearthly hard grade of rock strewn washed out trail and logging track. No place for a fat man and his moose of a bike. No real beauty in this place as all I can see for miles and miles is native virgin vegetation all around. Best laid plans n all that. Well, because I did not know what lay ahead some rearrangement of the bike was needed so that I could fit it out with stores. Cold rations. A large pack of soft white tortillas, jars of peanut butter and hazelnut and chocolate spread. Cheese triangles and smoked chorizo plus handfuls of chocolate bars. Plus huge quantities of water. The bike now weighs a ton. One thousand times perhaps I wrestled the sucker over washout and fallen trees and up impossible grades. For this is a place no man even with a horse should ever venture. Toward t...
It’s 3.36 am Zulu. Local Time. My name is Jake Sully. I’ve just awoken from a very deep dreamless sleep. So unlike me except for the very very early rise. There’s a mixture of apprehension and even more apprehension coursing through my body as I lay in bed typing this codswallop into my phoney friend. The flight to New Zealand was uneventful. Long, yes. Boring, yes. Uneventful. Unlike in the film AVATAR , Kathy Pathetic’s wannabe Boing Dreamliner completely failed to put me into deep hibernation. Desperate to be away with the fairies was I but no, not yet, Wayne. Eventually perhaps when Kathy has had her way with me and at a time yet to be given to me by the Lord of the Rings. I will eventually lose my thrust on this long long flight amongst the stars and come back down to Earth. Yesterday morning I was born again into this distant Pandorian world. Fed by a satiated Kathy a plate of malformed scrambled eggs, cardboard bacon and a brown coloured liquid which might...
That was some ride up over Shap. I could feel the wind and I was just watching in the shelter of my kitchen!!! Well done for making it to Kendal in one piece. That beer was well deserved.
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