LE JOG

[Sweder]

At least I have an excuse......

A fair point well made. I've been lost in the wilds of Exmoor for over a month. The good news is I've found my way out, heading towards Middle England by way of Stonehenge, though the detail must wait a day or so longer as I down some ale and mop my stew with this fabulous rustic cob. I'd just spent over an hour updating my log, plotting my passage across the faded map stuck with spit and snot into my booklet when a mangy cur, fur matted with filth and copulating flies, took hold of my tattered journal and made off with it across the fields.

I think it's name was 'Error' for that was what it's owner seemed to shout after it as it jumped a four-bar gate. Having tried twice more to scribble onto scraps of toilet paper found floating in the gents of this dingy establishment only for the pencilled routes to fade and dissappear I have succumbed to the lure of the foaming pint, vowing to anyone who'll listen that, hurry on sun-down, we'll see what tomorrow brings.

I fear were I to try a fourth time only to be thwarted I might hunt down and smite with furious anger the hapless author of my Run-Mapping journal until sparks spit from his skull striking the mead-stained cobbles