Russell's afterthoughts

Day #4 ONE YEAR POST REMINISCENCE

Today was the day that we met Rickard Maerz whilst avoiding the original plan of ascent descent repeat ascent and gondola down. In fact, thank Neptune, as the whole thrust of the journey was to avoid mechanized transport, the group decision based upon individual pain/ torrential suffering, not  to take mechanical adjunctive intussusception, was maintained. Sally rightfully points out that the original plan was to take the gondola back up to the previous day's ending point; however, the temperature of group response as outlined by our leader in his blog one year ago, suggested a somewhat chilly reception to the whole "hike more rather than less" attitude.
Even in the earliest days of our hike, it was clear:  Guy was out to test us. 'Twas equally as clear, we were out to test him right back!  Mr.Exercise, (does situps during any free moment, Mr.I'll-put- as- much- stuff- in- my- backpack- as- possible I can carry anything including your stuff Mr.Opthamologist -Nutritionist sees the truth in the question do you think you can afford to eat that ? you fat phuk Russell ) independently polled both Sally and I with such questions as:

Is he serious?
Does he have a death wish?
Why are we going back up?
Why are my fricking feet starting to hurt ?  (telepathically communicated)(rhetorically constructed)

Our paranoia at this point however leads us to believe that perhaps Dave's conversations with Guy were as follows:

Are they serious?
Are they that out of shape?
Why are they complaining so much?
They keep telling me their feet are fricking hurting perhaps because they are overweight heifers!?

We however remain convinced that on Day #4, today one year prior, Dave's feet were in agony and he expressed this to us in many both non-verbal and visually intepreted ways.

The day's summary in retrospect has to be in praise of precipitation. Due to the overwhelming droppage of water, the group decision, highly ruddered by neophytically whining ( later we we're to become much more accomplished) back-seat sea-kayakers, was, after cowering (whilst treading water) under the eaves of some nameless building (floating on pontoons) near a road *whereupon many motorcyclists seemed to be enjoying the slip factor upon some most dangerous of bends), to paddle around an endless lake (in retrospect probably two or three times", until we reached our destination, a harbor slip. My sentence construction abilities are exceeded only by my typing thumb eptitude!

There was no lake view from our  room at the Inn.  The only view was of a never to be taken gondola station. The room smelled of the sweat from our shoes placed in the window sill.  Dave's fat consumption overload gauge read flaming greasy-yellow, though his breakfast-ometer was still in the tolerable but please no more zone. My rash precluded any further thought or capability of hiking and my and Sally consumption of prophylactic, yet considered needed, narcotic cough preparations began. One for you, two for me, I am fatter and need more.

Pain wise. the only possible applicable measuring stick, ratings were as follows: Day four terrible. Day 1-3 worse still. The only saving Grace within days 1-3 were friends & company (fantastic 4), BEA  ARNULF, & the ever repetitively transient Fritzl the Schnitzl Ditzl Yeah! Day 5  presumptively heralding worse to come. In addition, light showers out of the northwest, barely an inch per hour expected.

Earliest Best of Show Statuette presentation:

Highest award of participant participation to A & B without whom we never would have survived (Mrs.Voltaren (Mrs. let me translate your need for cream to hotel reception BEA!(Mrs.Yodel the name Sally throughout the Alps))).

Highest award for claimed most willing to frequently participate ":Herr Schitzl Bily! Mr. I will be there for 10 days!". Little did we know he meant only for the party at the end!

Most Valued Player - The Eyeball

Best Leader - Gaius Maximus Caesar

Most willing follower - She who is the ROCKn'ROLL foot massager without par.


In the words of the immortal Paul Simon,
"Still whining after all these years (1), still whining after allllllll theeeeese years.".

That's a wrap. Post it on the site.