'We'll do Delhia without the Delhia, then perhaps we'll avoid the carbooters and horseboxists, maybe a quick stop for coffee at Mick's Monster Burger Truck on the top of the hill, and then catch that road that's usually full of cyclists with the narrow bridge where I nearly stacked it, the 272 (reverential pause), Steep Hill and back via The Bends and across to the camp site and the (c)Anal Cafe for breakfast.What d'ya reckon?'
...is some idea of the content of the pre blat plan briefing before heading off from the start point.
The usual response to this scattering of landmarks, incidents, numbers, hints and history is: 'I'll follow you then'. Probably wise, but this does require engagement in a roulette game of chance that, when lost, can leave intelligent fathers, husbands and previously clear thinking DIY experts marooned in the darkest of back roads miles from home!
Quick! Over-take, I don't wan'na get lost!
So often the pack can easily be split at a roundabout, or, can turn unseen up a side road. Within moments the missing man can be a couple of miles out of formation. Spurred on by the ever reducing chance of making it back home to laminate the flooring before lunch, the inevitability of having to ask the pyjama clad gent in wellies, walking a very small dog, 'which way to civilisation?' is a situation really best avoided. Even more so, having to engage the stained jodhpur scratching horse woman (without horse, but with riding crop) to determine, which way, pray tell, is out?
No, no, I'd rather lead the way, make it up , pretend I meant to turn left and then pull a U-turn back the same way, anything to avoid that lost behind the lines feeling ...or, alternatively, follow a carefully plotted SatNav file... up someone's drive! Just don't leave me in my little car in the backroads at 7 in the morning, I mean there's Landrovers and big tractors with Caterham catchers on the front in those places! It's not all fun this you know, we have to suffer for our art! (Art? Really?).
So why then did Qwick Qwaig fell off the back...twice. Especially as he was due home by 10 for some DIY duties. Blatiquette says that a single 7 search party will go on a rescue mission whilst the others wait in position for the hopeful return of the pair.This does rely, to a certain extent, on the lost driver realising his predicament and back tracking to the most likely 'departure from route' point. And whilst the wait ensues, well, hang around a bit, talk about the lost man, take photos or have a wee.
We didn't see Qwaig again, he was understood to have got home 2 days later. He got told off.
Breakfast was delayed and attached to the end of the blat for a change, mainly to catch more driving time with less traffic. However, it would be with caution that we plan the same again. With concentration levels low and the loss of Qwaig somewhere in Sussex adding to a hypoglycaemic dip, it was then that I decided not to check that the road ahead was clear before rolling on to the roundabout!
I thought you'd gone mate!!
How embarrasing!? Jeeez. Sorry Ian. It's taken two weeks to overcome the shame to post this. A new fog light and some artistic tapping from the inside and Ian has restored a level of acceptability to a previously ripple free back panel.It soooo nearly could have been a whole lot worse... I remember almost giving it the full beans to go for a gap, but coasted forward instead.I'll eat breakfast earlier and pay more attention in future.Normal ops have been re-instated.
My nose cone? Nothing there. Tough old tank.
At least Ian got home. Poor Qwaig. They eat Scotsmen in Sussex.
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