Saturday 14 July 2012

Not All Who Wander Are Lost . . .

. . . but if they aren't, you're doing it wrong.

I am alive.

No one is more surprised by this than me.

Long story short, I now know what hell looks like. It's all featureless, steep-sided hills, impenetrable mist, paths that lead to nowhere, tufty grass and the leg-swallowing bogs that hide among them. Not to mention the rainstorms that soak you utterly to the bone and reduce you to cowering in your tent in the middle of nowhere while your instructor worries about you and one of your team-mates showing early signs of hypothermia.

My feet hardly remember what it is like to be dry any more.

Not nice. Not nice at all.

But let me tell you, I have never felt more awesome in my entire life. I could have cried with happiness when I saw the mini-bus waiting at the end of our route (not in the least because there were veins of fire running through my shoulders, and my hips felt like they were about to shatter into pieces).

Eat your heart out, Fellowship. Mordor is Disneyland compared to Dartmoor.

However, that said, the sheer mental and physical anguish of the trip did spawn some truly hilarious moments. Such as the classic moments I shall repeat to you below. Call them the rantings of six starving, stinking, semi-hysterical seventeen-year-olds, but at the time they were funnier than anything else in the universe.

Enjoy.

Oh, and the promised video from my last post will be coming soon. It will probably be short, and the pictures may be absolute rubbish, but it will be there. Eventually.

***

Six sodden figures are wobbling along a disused tramline. They are one one of the highest ridges on Dartmoor, but even at this altitude the mist is so thick that they can scarcely see three feet down the path in front of them. All around is a swirling mass of white, forbidding fog.

Then, suddenly, the lead figure halts with a shriek.

"Look! Look, up there!" She points into the sky, almost jumping up and down, though the weight of her rucksack keeps her firmly rooted to the damp ground. "Do you see it?"

A great shriek goes up among the group. One drops to her knees and raises her hands to the sky, shouting, "Good God, save us from this unknown horror! What art thou, strange burning orange ball? Where didst thou come from?"

"I think it's ... the sun," says another team-mate, peeking out from under her sodden hood.

"Sun? What is this fabled "sun" of which you speak?" says the lead figure.

All six stare up at the faint outline in the sky until it is once again swallowed by the mist. They then struggle back to their feet and continue on their way as if nothing had happened.

***

The invigilator leans on his walking stick and laughs as the group wind past him, down the heather-covered hill to their camp site. He chuckles at the grim, stoic expressions on their faces.

"Watch out girls," he says jovially, "it's going to be a pretty foul night according to the weather reports.  Let's hope none of the monsters you learned about at the visitor's centre come and get you, eh? Wouldn't want the Hound of the Baskervilles to make off with anyone!"

The last figure stops and looks into the invigilator's eyes with a blank, dead stare.

"If I see a hound, I will turn it into a hat and gloves without a second thought."

The invigilator watches, utterly bemused, as the girls vanish down the gully. Perhaps the weather is taking more of a toll on them than he thought. . . 

***

It is 5:50 AM, and the still morning air is shattered by a loud, incessant beeping. From underneath a frame of wind-blasted tent poles and mournfully damp canvas, a bestial snarl rises and the sound of dull, wet thudding begins, accompanied by a series of words spat viciously at the source of the noise.

"Silence. Watch. Your. Queen. Commands It!"

***

And finally, a piece of riveting, Dartmoor-inspired songwriting that was sung from the base of Ryder's Hill right down to the valley town of Ivybridge. Feel free to sing along - the tune is very easy, and you get the gist of the lyrics pretty quickly.

100 wooly sheep, standing in the bog.
100 wooly sheep, standing in the bog,
And if one wooly sheep
Should wander into the fog
There'd be 99 wooly sheep, standing in the bog.

~Charley R

27 comments:

  1. Charley, if there weren't bozos like you who did this kind of stuff, the rest of us would have nothing to laugh at.

    At least you know now how your characters feel half the time. Next task working toward full empathy with characters: death.

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    1. Oh yes. I was almost on the verge of swearing that I would never do anything so terrible to them again .... until I realised I was rather enjoying myself in a strange masochistic way. Besides - it's fine, as long as it's not me xD

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    2. So now, just because you're a little scattered in the attic, you decide that such miserable conditions must be enjoyable, so you're going to keep at it and cause your characters even more grief? But of course, it's fine as long as it's not you. Heartless fiend.

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    3. No no no, that's not what I meant at all. What I meant was, it was absolute agony at the time, but now that I really think about it it was really worth it. The last bit, though, is completely true. As long as it's not me, the characters can suffer just as much as ever - and even more realistically, now that I have some new inspiration.

      Besides, who needs hearts. Arc reactors are far more entertaining.

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    4. So you recognize that those conditions are horrible living conditions, and yet you persist in torturing your characters thus. Heartless indeed.

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    5. Didn't you just read - she doens't have a heart any more. Apparantly she managed to sang an arc reactor from Stark. Sneaky girl! *giggles*

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    6. That's why I said "heartless indeed". Why would I say "indeed" unless it was true?

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    7. @Cayla - Loki and I nicked one when Tony was out partying one night. We also had fun re-setting JARVIS to speak only in Urdu, and to play the Jaws theme tune every time Pepper Potts walks in. Don't ask me how we got out alive...

      @Liam - MWUA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! xD

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    8. @Charley - Next time would you please consider taking me? I needs some adventures! :}

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    9. Cathryn: No you don't, you need some grammar.

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    10. Adventures in grammar then? *puppy dog eyes*

      :P~ *giggles*

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    11. *whispers* I'll make up the grammar while we do the adventure ;)

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    12. If you violate any grammar rules, I will personally join forces with whatever villain you're facing and destroy you both. That is, if he has grammar knowledge. If not, I'll have to go my own way and destroy everyone.

      But of course, it doesn't have to be this way. You can just follow grammar rules like good little people.

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    13. *whispers* I know he's normally quite entertaining, but he's being a party pooper right now, isn't he? *soft giggles*

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  2. Hilarious. What more can I say? Good thing you have such a sense of humour or your time in "Hell" would have killed, eh?! My favourite part? "What art thou, strange burning orange ball? Where didst thou come from?" :D

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    1. Hehehehe, thank you! I do reckon our group's sense of humour saved us from madness and eventual death-by-freezing-moor. There was a lot of laughing going on when we were in our worst hysterical states xD

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  3. Haha, this was great! Your sense of humor is quite amusing. ;)

    --Lia

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    1. Thank you very much - and welcome to the Tower! :D

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  4. English people: "What? The sun? !!! Who stole the clouds? Hmm, let's have a BBQ."
    Welsh people: "It's that thing they told us about! Everyone inside, before you dry out and die!"

    Or so we decided on Tumblr a while back.

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    1. Hahaha, THAT explains why I hate the sun so much (I'm half Welsh)!

      Tumblr has officially got even more awesome than ever xD

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    2. ROFL!

      Don't move to California. The sunny season might be a bit much for your welsh side. :}

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  5. Oh, that was priceless! And the poem, mwah! Absolutely so! :P Though I do have to say mist that thick and hills (or rocks, for that matter) of any kind sound purely epic to Florida-bound me. :)

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    1. Hehe, oh they are gorgeous ... when they're not trying to kill you. Glad you liked the song - we sang it solidly, frequently forgetting what number of sheep we were on, and just carrying on anyway. I think it shall be the world's national anthem when I take over xD

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    2. Ah Florida... one of the lands of Flat that we have... Poor You *huggles* :}
      (I visit FL once a year, the in-laws live there - but I live up in Maryland where hills and curves, we have lots of, come visit *he he*) :}

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  6. And now for my own comment... I think I can pretty much guess which ones were you, but do confess to us! (And If I'd been leading I'd have been laughing right along and adding my own lines *giggles*)

    I wonder though - is the tune different over there, or is there something in the pronunciation I'm missing as a cross ponder in your song... It deons't quite fit the tune the way I feel it shoud. *sigh*

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    1. Heehee, I'm the figure on her knees (the "what art thou!?" one) and the watch abuser. The others were all my team-mates.

      We altered the rhythm a little to fit our words, so it could well be the same as your version ... or not, I don't know xP

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