Tuesday, July 25

Not dead yet

I put it down to reading these action man biographies. Having spent the morning running around town I limped home for an hour or two of log stacking; then feeling the call of the Untersberg, donned my walking boots and set out across the moor. Needless to say I am now cream-crackered. Gudgeon remembers struggling in a cross-country race aged 26 and realising I wasn’t 18 anymore. Forty years on things are not much better. On the plus side: today’s weather is glorious and there was not other soul out there. Just a rather large Chinook.

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