Myself and a couple of chaps from the quartet have recently returned from a very enjoyable weekend at a steam up event at the Nene Valley Railway, Cambs. What I'd like to relate to you all here though is not so much details of our sojourn at said event but more our journey up there.
We left in the Tercel at 6am on Saturday with an ETA of 11 am and all was fairly uneventful until we got to Wisbech when my mate Malc let out an exclamation and pointed somewhere off to his right. Our gaze followed the direction in which he was pointing and there, emanating from behind the trees, was that unmistakable cloud of smoke that can only be produced by a steam locomotive. So we pulled over and tried to plot a route down to the trackside so we could get a closer look. It quickly came to our attention that this would mean crossing a field of wheat which had no apparent public thoroughfares traversing it and while I am normally a very thorough adherent of the countryside code I regret to say that we threw caution to the wind on this occassion and off we gambolled through the field down to the track. The sensation of wheat brushing against my legs reminded me of my schooldays and my art teacher, Mr. Joachim, who used to tell me how he liked to run nude through crop fields and revel in the sensation of the ears of wheat ticking his lower body. Funny how seemingly trivial things can transport one back in time in such a way.
Anyway, we got to the trackside and completely missed the loco as, by now, it had moved on half a mile or so and was no more than a speck in the distance. Also, there had been a deluge of rain at some point in time prior to our traversal of the field and said rainwater had wholeheartedly transferred itself from the ears of wheat with which we made contact to the fabric of our trousers.
This resulted in us removing our trousers and driving the rest of the way in our pants in order that we'd have something dry to wear upon arrival.
However, we shrugged it off and all had a giggle about how we must appear to the passing lorry drivers who could cast their eyes over to their left and observe 3 gricers in their pants hurtling down the A17 LOL ! Anyway, when we'd all finished laughing, Malc kindly decided to break his victuals with us and we all enjoyed his sandwich spread sandwiches in a layby while reflecting on how fortunate we are to be part of such a wacky crowd. Days like that make one glad to be alive!
We left in the Tercel at 6am on Saturday with an ETA of 11 am and all was fairly uneventful until we got to Wisbech when my mate Malc let out an exclamation and pointed somewhere off to his right. Our gaze followed the direction in which he was pointing and there, emanating from behind the trees, was that unmistakable cloud of smoke that can only be produced by a steam locomotive. So we pulled over and tried to plot a route down to the trackside so we could get a closer look. It quickly came to our attention that this would mean crossing a field of wheat which had no apparent public thoroughfares traversing it and while I am normally a very thorough adherent of the countryside code I regret to say that we threw caution to the wind on this occassion and off we gambolled through the field down to the track. The sensation of wheat brushing against my legs reminded me of my schooldays and my art teacher, Mr. Joachim, who used to tell me how he liked to run nude through crop fields and revel in the sensation of the ears of wheat ticking his lower body. Funny how seemingly trivial things can transport one back in time in such a way.
Anyway, we got to the trackside and completely missed the loco as, by now, it had moved on half a mile or so and was no more than a speck in the distance. Also, there had been a deluge of rain at some point in time prior to our traversal of the field and said rainwater had wholeheartedly transferred itself from the ears of wheat with which we made contact to the fabric of our trousers.
This resulted in us removing our trousers and driving the rest of the way in our pants in order that we'd have something dry to wear upon arrival.
However, we shrugged it off and all had a giggle about how we must appear to the passing lorry drivers who could cast their eyes over to their left and observe 3 gricers in their pants hurtling down the A17 LOL ! Anyway, when we'd all finished laughing, Malc kindly decided to break his victuals with us and we all enjoyed his sandwich spread sandwiches in a layby while reflecting on how fortunate we are to be part of such a wacky crowd. Days like that make one glad to be alive!
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