More mountains to climb

Well, in that my idea of going over to Wales for a bit of the old low level photography last week came to naught, and climbing the high valley-sides of the Machynlleth Loop got rained off with nasty weather, before I came home via the car park that is the M62 and got run over by the big lorry carrying hangovers to deserving muppets. A good trip away none the less; stayed over with my mate in Scouserland; first time I've been over to the gaff in question and what a gaff it is; maximum respect for putting up with that place, that longmatey. Popped over to see another North West mate while I was there; I add Blackburn to the list of places where the traffic management officer of the council needs shooting. Nice coffee though.

In the absence of welsh travel, and sheep to shag, instead a jolly time was had over at Warton Airfield again; not much flying but enough to keep my interest. My first Mark 4 Nimrod sitting out on the ramp; a brand new Typhoon flew and a Harrier I'd not seen before. This time, I found the same spot as everyone else uses, in fact someone I knew from one of the aviation groups was hanging around on site, but communication being typical, didn't realise it until later. Mind you, stopped off beforehand for brunch in the chippy in Freckleton and I'm obliged to say it's great; proper meat pie made local, gravy on the chips and nice friendly guy serving. Yay!











Today, it's domestics. Oh, fun. The kitchen's knee deep in laundry and guff and there's no time for fun. But I've been beavering for several hours and the back's broken. Of the job, not mine. A tasty salad dinner (yum), and I think as it's a nice evening, I'd treat myself to a vroom on the bike. In fact I was just about to go and do it... except that I remembered just in time that the rear brake's off and in pieces; wouldn't have been good to have remembered that at 40mph!!