I seem to recall it was a hazy sunny day with a bit of a sharp breeze from the west as we gradually displaced the earlier church goers in the carpark. Quite a large bunch in comparison with recent turnouts gathered, however we were once again deprived of the JMs company. Old Faithful stood in and welcomed back Miss Perfect and then newbie Trevor who was already toting a bandaged up knee. Spiderman tried his best to describe a series of strange and unusual marks that he had used on the trail with limited success (as we were to find out later). He then ushered us out west through the gate towards Fishbourne creek. Initially it looked like we were headed down towards the sewage works but a swift U turn took us back to the top of the creek and out to the mill pond.
Here we soon discovered that all compass points except south were false, so we headed
south through the tall reeds and found the flour heading over the mud and rocks below
the tide line. Just as we were steeling ourselves for a spell of wading we came upon
one of Spiderman's strange marks which we deciphered as meaning “turn round and go back”,
which we did, arriving back at the mill pond to discover some swift modifications now gave
us a way out to the west.
Somehow, and I don't know how, the FRBs (including yours truly) managed to overrun a falsie,
missed a ladies check, and charged on to emerge on Park Lane at the Beggar's Rest nursing home.
We then compounded our waywardness by continuing on the trail, crossing the main road at
Black Boy lane and reaching the regroup at the sports field entrance where we had to wait
for ages for the rest to catch up with their predictable indignation.
After thanking the hares, OF started the usual mulling over the morning's activity, mentioning
Trevor and Bambi for the falsie overrun, Sinbad for preferring to walk with ladies all the time,
and some others that I can't recall.
Refreshments were taken at the pub, the second one after turning left out of the carpark, not the first (Bull's Head - ed). Bambi.
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