48 hours to go

With exactly 48 hours to go to the start of The Great To Do, The Offas Dyke Ordeal, there are one or two flies in the ointment of life who are currently doing the backstroke to see how much irritation they can cause before we set off.

The positives are many, we have been overwhelmed by the generosity of sponsors and whilst there are a few left to sell it looks like the target of selling 178 miles will be reached, so many thanks to you all, keep sending your donations though, if you pay enough I will walk back again. Only joking.

Last night we were given a box of boil in the bag rations which included non meat burgers and beans for the picky eater amongst the group, Sara isn't really a veggie, shes just fussy. One bag I am interested in trying is a lamb curry made from halal meat. Army rations have certainly changed from tinned pink gop masquerading as meat.

Fly one is not having a back pack. I will qualify that, I have more rucksacks than you would ever want ranging from a 100 litre with 20 litre side pocket add ons, 20 litre day sacks, 45 litre alpine climbing rucksacks and so on. What I decided I needed for this venture was a 65 litre bag which since I ordered it over a week ago has changed colour (sorry colour advertised no longer available) and is now somewhere between Rock HQ and Wakefield. Quite why is has taken so long to get here is a mystery, as is fly two who has made off with my trousers.

Now I can forget things, mostly like where I put stuff or more commonly to put things away. Just before the BBMC I remembered something about my Craghopper walking trousers. What was it? Ah yes, I have ripped them, a huge tear just over the left leg pocket revealing a very fetching peice of thigh. No problem I will sow it, or not. Not. I forgot, and being a double hard so and so set off into the fierce summer storm with leaky trousers. However, this was not the only hole in them. It was only at the half way stage when I was sat on a grassy knoll surveying the path whilst eating the compulsory cheese and tomato, chatting to passers by, women mainly who were also on the great trek that I remembered the fact that I had ripped my trousers before the obvious leg tear. I was in fact doing my own version of Privates on Parade sat there in the countryside as the crotch had split along the seam. I finished the walk wet and walking funny.

So they needed replacing, and they have been but the two pairs of replacements are now somewhere between here and Scotland, apparently the post room suffered a malfunction and delayed the dispatch of my trousers.

Strange really considering both these items were bought and paid for in the UK whilst a North Face jacket I ordered from Beijing, China, five days ago arrived in good time.

Fingers crossed that my new rucksack arrives tomorrow or I will be faced with the dilemma of which carrier bag to use, Co-op or Aldi. Probably the one that covers the most of my leg.