THIS WEEK'S MUSIC

I shall only be popping the occasional YouTube clip on here but this one is special: Since a little boy I have always thought this one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

LOST BOYS: Novak & Good

Spotted on the TGO Challenge Message Board:

"Dear Derek.

My boyfriend, Novak, and I are lurking in the shadows here on your pretty message board for quite a whilst these days (we do like your colours - so refreshing for a manly board) and want to get to know you all a little betters. So we have thinkings of applying for your walk this next year. Neither of us have done your hiking in Scotlands before but we are both experienced and like dressing up in the waterproof cloths and the big boots with the extra long black nylons laces.

We want to start at Torridon because the nightlife in Kinlochewe is a real high-spot. Novak tells me that he has a good friend called Thomas who likes putting us up in his nice house with the wild life.

We know where we want to finish; a little hidey-place calling Dickmont's Den, but would like some helps in preparing our paths. I find that I get like a little lost boy so often since having met up with Novak. He's such a strong boy and I just lose my minds when I am with him.

*Sigh*

Thanking you in advances for your hospitality.

Your good friend, Horst Good."

SOFT LEATHER

As I sit looking out at the soft suppleness of the leathery leaves of the trees  being blown about, outside my cottage, further north, the country is being smashed by storms. Scotland and northern England are having floods.

Heading south, away from these troubles, three Challengers are making their way to East Anglia, where the weather is kinder. Two, OddJob and the Bigamist, are to stay with Lord and Lady Whiplash at Lord Elpus Hall and the other, Nurse Wiggly, is to be taken into my protection.

We shall all meet tomorrow night for some fun, frolics and party games.

I have been sent this photograph from a well-wisher: I wonder if this is what Miss Whiplash has in mind?

RUFTY TUFTY TENTY NIGHT: Part Three

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip. After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep.
Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend. "Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."
"I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes" replies Watson.
"And what do you deduce from that?"
Watson ponders for a minute.
"Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. What does it tell you, Holmes?"
Holmes is silent for a moment. "Watson, you idiot!" he says. "Someone has stolen our tent!"

As the rain was absolutely thrashing Wanda's backside and the wind came at us like a freight train we were having a fit of the giggles. I don't know what I have been doing with my life, but I hadn't heard it before... I am not sure what time of night it was; it must have been somewhere around three or four in the morning.

We were both wrapped up in our sleeping bags with Piglet wrapped in Shirl's down smock. "So how did this aging lothario end up with a slip of a girl in his tent in the wee small hours?" I hear you ask. Ah. That's a good question. And I shall try to explain, m'lud.

I last left you grasping a cup of hot chocolate made by 'Nurse' as we watched, seemingly in slow motion, the rescue by torchlight of a chap from the upper slopes of Great Gable. Before long, the balmy evening took a turn for the worse and soon the winds were gusting like cows hitting the tent and then it started to rain. And Rain , And Rain like it had never rained before like there had been a national shortage of rain and now we were stockpiling just in case there wasn't going to be any more Rain for a year or three.

Shirl managed some food, but I was too far gone with complete and utter knackeredness to bother with anything other than some Granola bars and soup, again provided by Nurse from her kitchen in her Akto. After coming back into my ward with the soup, I sensed an air of concern.

"What gives, fair lady?"

"My tent is parked on a bog and the porch is ankle deep in water and I think it's going to float away or sink without trace into the bog."

"Ah"

Nothing for it then. Gentleman that I am, I shoved over and Shirl 'manfully' dragged her mattress and sleeping bag into my tent, which seemed to be above the level of the swamp we had parked Shirl's Akto on.

The noise of the rain smashing into Wanda (for new readers, that's Wanda Warmlite, my little plastic Wendy House) was quite incredible and Shirl tried to record it on her little Dictaphone - we could hardly hear each other lying side by side over the incredibly thrashing splattery maelstrom!

Fortunately, when I was pitching Wanda, I had the foresight to use one of my trekking poles as the rear peg, anchored some twenty inches into the mountain to brace against the huge gusts, so we were secure.

With two and a dog in a torrential storm, I can now see why Gayle & Mick found their Wendy problematical. The increased condensation in the windward single skin end cone is battered away from the sil-nylon and there is a very faint mist (not unpleasant) that starts to dampen things. Not too much of a problem as I just used my pac-towel to mop things up. I also realised that my seam-sealing all those years ago in a freezing night in February perhaps was no longer up to the job as there was an irritating drip which added to the wateriness and hilarity of the situation.

To give her her due, Wanda behaved stunningly. We clipped in the internal storm guys so she was as solid as a rock. Shirl behaved stunningly well too. So did our chaperone, Piglet. It was a very long, sleepless night telling dreadful jokes and giggling like kids.

Quite a perfick getaway!

BARMY ARMY

Seven months ago the blog went through the 75,000 visitors mark. Well, today we all burst through the 100,000 visitors hurdle with about 188,000 page views! Woo Ooo!

And who was the 100,000th visitor? A bit contrived, I know, but when we realised this milestone was coming, she nipped in with 8 seconds to spare before the 100,001st visitor arrived. The young lady is an infamous blogger from 'up north' with a border terrier.

It constantly surprises me that people still drop by, as, let's face it, this isn't really an out and out walking blog. There's not too much chat about gear (even though I do like gear) as there are far better blogs out there about gear. There's only really one walk where the route was discussed in detail and as that was 1,687 miles long, I felt I had done that to death, so there hasn't been too much detail about walking routes since then. I guess that you are not interested in that!

Readers come here for a variety of reasons, but some of the more interesting Googled searches that arrived here are "bruised buttocks" (still a favourite after seven months!) and "Foot fetishes" and coming in with just one vote, was, very strangely "Women's Trundle Hat"

Make of it what you will. You are all barmy! But thank you.

SPINE TINGLING

I know I said that Lisa was going to be the last bit of music for a while, but if you don't know this one, try it - stay right through. Play it as loud as your speakers will take.