Doing the soakey-pokey.
13 miles of torrential rain, sizzling lightning and deafening thunder.
That's what it's all about.
Holy cow. We started off at a crawl to accommodate my 4.5 hour sleep last night in a light drizzle. Fog was thick and the visibility poor. In fact Ozzie wasn't wearing his glasses because he wouldn't have been able to see through them and Mike was already in the doghouse for venturing to America in such dismal weather. Then Ozzie innocently mentions the possibility of thunder storms today.
30 minutes later we were in the thick of massive cell that dragged its bottom right through us and we were caught, caught, caught.
The rain came down so hard, the lightning flashed so bright, and thunder cracked so loud we couldn't see, hear, or do much more than keep putting one foot in front of the other. As we ran together in a tight pack we had to shout to each other to be heard.
It rained so hard I got water in my eyes and it wouldn't clear out. As I was frantically trying to regain eyesight I heard Ozzie yell, "I think my socks are damp!"
The deluge lasted for a few miles then let up. In a brief interlude between downpours Ozzie's daughter came out on a rescue mission. By then we were ok but I wonder what we would have said if she found us a few minutes sooner.
The rain picked up again but the frightening lightning and thunder was farther away heading for Mike's house in St. Andrews. He knew he was in double trouble with the coach. In fact, his fears came out in a slip of the tongue at the finish when he meant to say he was going to take a nap on the couch today. Instead he said, "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Uh oh.
The violence kept the pace going for all of my tiredness and we finished the loop around the lake in 1:49. A long hot shower was on the schedule as soon as I got home.
That's what it's all about.
Holy cow. We started off at a crawl to accommodate my 4.5 hour sleep last night in a light drizzle. Fog was thick and the visibility poor. In fact Ozzie wasn't wearing his glasses because he wouldn't have been able to see through them and Mike was already in the doghouse for venturing to America in such dismal weather. Then Ozzie innocently mentions the possibility of thunder storms today.
30 minutes later we were in the thick of massive cell that dragged its bottom right through us and we were caught, caught, caught.
The rain came down so hard, the lightning flashed so bright, and thunder cracked so loud we couldn't see, hear, or do much more than keep putting one foot in front of the other. As we ran together in a tight pack we had to shout to each other to be heard.
It rained so hard I got water in my eyes and it wouldn't clear out. As I was frantically trying to regain eyesight I heard Ozzie yell, "I think my socks are damp!"
The deluge lasted for a few miles then let up. In a brief interlude between downpours Ozzie's daughter came out on a rescue mission. By then we were ok but I wonder what we would have said if she found us a few minutes sooner.
The rain picked up again but the frightening lightning and thunder was farther away heading for Mike's house in St. Andrews. He knew he was in double trouble with the coach. In fact, his fears came out in a slip of the tongue at the finish when he meant to say he was going to take a nap on the couch today. Instead he said, "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Uh oh.
The violence kept the pace going for all of my tiredness and we finished the loop around the lake in 1:49. A long hot shower was on the schedule as soon as I got home.
posted by Andrew at 8:35 PM
4 Comments:
I can't tell you how glad I am to read that I'm not the only nutcase doing stuff like that.
Sounds like you had great fun. No talk of chocolate balls or anything. Sunday morning was similar this side of the Atlantic - socks also wet.
Wasn't that fun?! So glad that I remembered to stash some dry clothes in my bag. And a good thing the camera was waterproof!
Sounds great! Um, but don't socks NORMALLY get soaked in rain??
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