Missed it blat!

So the weather was good on the weekend, but I was away...doesn't mean that the fun stops right??

The forecast was for a dry night Saturday and Qwaig was up for a run in the morning...so best let him tell his tale:

A 'Turner' Sunrise

After a short volunteer roll call for a 'before sun-up sortie' on Sunday, Ian and I, as the only duty members, arranged a suitable ETA for an early morning blat across the downs... the ones up north of where we are, The Chilterns are they?

Meeting early in Farnborough in the dark, I inadvertantly made the day for two late shift workers at the Total services: photos of the car, whilst I filled up, were duly posed to their satisfaction (simple pleasures!).

Suitably fuelled, I was keen to get on and attack the nearest set of corners, but sense prevailed ...I paraphrase a conversation with this morning's squadron leader along the lines of : 'rather than stuff it 2 mins from take off, lets leave it until we're at least amongst the interesting roadscape'. Won over, a more 'sensible' (straight) initial route prevailed, at least until some of the grease and damp had burnt off the road surface.

Soon, however, we were deep into the blat and the in-flight entertainment was worthy of any long haul flight. With the  pitch of the road and the surface greasy, I was left as a 'passenger along for the ride' for a good stretch  (if caught unawares, of course) - smooth and steady was the flying mantra of the day... a few Hail Mary's helped.

But this did not account for all the mid blat turbulence. Following Ian down some single (ish), OK , 'narrow' roads in the middle of Berks somewhere, I saw ahead the tell tale flicker of my wingman's brake light, noted, I looked beyond:  nothing in view, so I kept the airspeed up - brake lights still on - and here is where I am thinking why is he slowing? - now why is he stopping - shit, why has he stopped?? And out of the green - coming towards us: a full size John Deer - resplendent in green camo and hiding in the gloom (no lights)....feck!!  Fronts lock up, off brake, turn, back on brakes....

Ian in the meantime, (having had recent experience of a very similar incident), slams into first and pulls forward a couple of feet.

I think they call that a near miss in flying terms.

Trousers browned and incident recorded, we head off in search of the Wantage road.

Now who needs the glorious 12th and a gun to go bag a brace of grouse?? Just take one 7even and drive it - the number of times we had to stop or slow to walking pace to avoid collateral damage to car/bird/driver was stupid. I cannot believe people pay to go and shoot these crazy fowl, Ian and I could have filled the larder of Popham Cafe with the mornings catch.

Egg bacon and a couple of grouse please. Tasty.

(Please don't tell me they weren't Grouse... as 'chicken' or 'pigeon' doesn't sound as good and, besides, it would make less of a gourmet occasion for our fantasy breakfast.)

In all, a great blat: roads were interesting and a nice challenge for a change.(Oh and I didn't get lost this time ;-) )

Until the next one!

Cheers, Qwaig the Qwick

Words : Qwaig                Pics: Ian H                 Music: What farkin' music??

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