I had a terrific week, thanks to Charles and everyone else involved.
Most of the week was spent tail ending with Gazz doing a top job pathfinding.
After fearing the rain forecasted for thursday night / friday (that never appeared), a few of us opted for the soft option of a neaby motel. This meant fridays group was Gazz, Rick, Timpo and me.
Gazz was happy to pass pathfinder roll over to Timpo who declared whilst we were a small group we could up the pace and do the longer/harder route.
Things were going well until ater the rock slab by the river when we appeared to be off route, a descent of a 45 degree banking to find a passable route, this was accomplished by me and the 640 adventure sliding down on our side mostly.
On the way out of the valley Rick injured his foot against a rock but was able to reach the road and head for camp.
The three of us carried on without incident until Timpo fell victim to the Dreaded red mud lane, his bike stuck wheel deep in the dreaded mud. We pushed and pulled to no effect so the orange strap was pulled from my bag of tricks an looped round a fork leg, Gazz and me had an end each and on the count of three gave a superhuman heave on the strap, unfortunately the strap slipped from my grip which ended with the pair of us on our arses rolling about in said mud .
Timpo tried to hide his laughter for at least 2 seconds, While i saw the funny side of it . . . . Gazz was not amused, . . . . i tried to lay the blame squarely on Gazz but as he still had the orange strap in his hand, I was found guilty.
Gazz and me opted to bypass this hazzard and meet Timpo at the end of the lane.
Things went quickly downhill from here, Timpo said it was'nt far (yeah right
) so we might as well finish the route. although by this time i was completely knackered i was keen to finish the route.
An off camber rock slab with an awkward route took me three attempts with Gazz lifting the bike off me each time, Timpo appeared at the last rescue to see what we were fecking about at, the extra pair of hands got me on the way again.
The next hazzard was the damaged bridge, Gazz suggested we bypass this one, but Timpo went to check the depth of the ford ( fast and deep), while i came accross some suitable logs to effect a repair, Gazz shook his head in disbelief, but with 2 engineers on the team a falling down bridge was'nt going to stop us.
The rest was plain sailing after this and we were soon at the camp site.
I should have mentioned that Gazz the riding god cleared the rock slab by the river unaded.
By the end of the day Timpo and me became the F.X. twins. . . . . . I was Fecking X-hausted and Timpo was Fecking X-haspirated waiting for me.